The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill Book 7)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “So...”

  “Yes?”

  “How long is he gonna keep doing that?”

  “Normally, a spirit tether is a tentative thing. Mediums, the real ones anyway, use them to get bits and pieces – usually just glimpses. It’s like talking to someone through a TV full of static.”

  “Shades of Poltergeist.”

  “This one is a lot stronger, though. For starters, most people don’t have access to body parts.” She threw a glare at me that I did my best to ignore. “We used blood magic before you arrived. Each of us donated a little piece of our life force to draw him fully back from the veil. It’s not something to be done lightly, as it will keep his spirit from finding rest.”

  Somehow, that sounded way more ominous than I’d been hoping for. “I guess that’s understandable. I mean, he was like a father to you and...”

  Christy lowered her voice to a level that she knew only I’d hear. “That’s what I told my sisters, but it’s only partially true.”

  “Oh?”

  “Those pictures, the ones from the Jahabich lair?” I nodded and she continued. “I’ve been studying them, trying to make sense of it all. There’s definitely a spell in that final pictograph.”

  “You mean the...” I looked around, saw Kelly and Veronica throw a glance my way, and then lowered my voice to match Christy’s. “You mean the one that showed them being beaten?”

  “Exactly. The problem is twofold. There’re some symbols I don’t understand. Enochian is very old. Even with the most dedicated of teachers, there were bound to be changes over the centuries. Losses too. All you need is one person to transcribe a symbol slightly wrong and, over time, it takes on a whole new meaning. I’m hoping Harry can help. You may not know this, but he was considered a respected historian of my people.”

  Nope, didn’t know that. Didn’t really care either. “Um, you’re gonna bring him up to speed on all of that?”

  “I have to. My sisters too. It’s heresy, but the truth needs to be told. Besides, it might be our only chance.”

  “At stopping them?”

  “That, and maybe stopping other things from happening...”

  Christy trailed off, but her meaning was clear. The doctrines the Magi had followed for thousands of years were based off of the White Mother. The thing was, Christy was now convinced that she was pure in the color of her clothing only. If others could be convinced that their entire way of life was based off a pack of lies, then perhaps they could be swayed from the path that fate had supposedly set them upon.

  It was most likely a fool’s errand, one that could get her ostracized just as surely as the crime she’d been accused of. Even so, it gave her hope.

  Considering everything she’d been through, I wasn’t about to deny her that.

  War Party

  Christy convened a closed session upstairs with her sisters and Decker’s skull to bring them up to speed on our findings from the Jahabich lair. With the Templar keeping guard outside and the Defilers off ... well, supposedly defiling barnyard animals, it seemed like the perfect time for the mages to do so without interruption and with minimal people overhearing.

  Mind you, minimal didn’t mean nobody.

  With the magical freakiness over for now, my roommates and I moved the furniture back into the living room so as to relax a bit. The large living space just so happened to be conveniently located right beneath where Christy and her coven were talking, allowing me to pick up everything being said above a whisper while pretending to engage my friends in some idle chitchat regarding who would win in a fight: a platoon of Sith warriors or the X-men.

  Sheila joined us soon after, having gone to check in with Sister Bernadette, who’d set up a Templar command center in – where else – the kitchen.

  “How’s it going with the holy rollers?” I asked, having just crushed Tom’s argument by pointing out that Jean Grey and the Phoenix Force could fuck up Emperor Palpatine six ways to Sunday.

  “Not bad. They’re a bit on edge, but putting them on guard duty is helping to distract them from the distaste most of them are still feeling.”

  “Teaming up with me?”

  “It’s not just you, but yeah.”

  “Maybe we should pass the collection plate around,” Ed suggested. “That always seemed to work when I went to Sunday mass as a kid.”

  “I draw the line at confession,” Tom joked.

  “Believe me, nobody wants to hear that,” I said idly, focusing on the conversation at hand since all Christy seemed to be doing upstairs at the moment was passing around the photos I’d taken of the Jahabich-be-good spell. “Although I’m sure Sally would have some snide comment. Speaking of which, where is she?”

  “Still outside, I think,” Sheila said. “She drove Bernadette and me up. When we got here, she said she wanted to take a walk, scope out our perimeter.”

  “I bet that was a fun ride.”

  “It was ... uncomfortably quiet.”

  “Sally? Quiet?” I asked. “I can see Sister Dumpling not wanting to lower herself to speaking to garbage such as us, but I’m having a hard time picturing Sally not getting in every dig she could.”

  “Yeah,” Ed agreed. “She’s never been shy about her opinions.”

  We shared a glance, which I broke off quickly. He and I still had one hell of an uncomfortable discussion ahead of us. I couldn’t pretend forever that he hadn’t noticed my feelings for Sally had changed ever so slightly. As one of the few folks in this world I considered a true friend, I’d need to come clean at some point, albeit that could certainly wait until after we discovered whether we’d live or die in Boston. Death was potentially the best plausible deniability excuse of them all.

  Thankfully, the awkward moment was shattered just then as Blasphemy! psychically reverberated throughout the house.

  I refocused my attention back upstairs. Yep, Christy had gotten to the White Mother and what a bitch she really was. Things were finally getting interesting.

  “What are they talking about?” Sheila asked.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re eavesdropping, aren’t you?”

  “Um...”

  “Every few seconds, your eyes lose focus. Also, you tilt your head so your right ear is facing upward.”

  “I do?”

  “He does?” Tom echoed.

  “Yes. Don’t you guys ever play poker? Bill’s tells are obvious from across the room.”

  “Yep,” Ed replied. “Hence why I always win.”

  I pointed at him. “You said it was just luck.”

  “I lied.”

  “Ass.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Sheila chided. “Are you listening or not?” My silence was apparently a confession of guilt because she added, “So spill.”

  “Dude, are you listening in on my girlfriend?” Tom asked.

  “Fine. Yes, I’m listening.”

  “Have you ever done that before?”

  “On occasion,” I admitted.

  “Like what about when we’re doing it in my room?”

  “Oh, fuck no!” I lied. Truth was, it was kinda hard to tune out. Tom liked to pant “oh yeah, baby” over and over again like he was in a bad seventies porno. Try sleeping through that shit.

  “And no,” I said, turning to Sheila, “I don’t listen to you guys either when you’re downstairs in the shower.”

  She blinked a few times, her expression blank. “I didn’t ask.”

  “Yeah ... well ... in case you were wondering.” Oh boy. “Anyway, let’s focus on the important stuff right now.”

  “So what are they talking about? Sounded like that ... thing ... Harry, I guess, wasn’t happy.”

  “You mostly only had to deal with him at work,” I said, purposely ignoring the date he’d taken her on once. “Believe me, Decker was a psycho asshole for the most part. I sincerely doubt dying has given him any new insight into things. But anyway, he�
�s all bent out of shape because...” I trailed off for a moment, remembering my discussion with Christy from a few days prior. The discovery we’d made far below ground had shaken her to her core. She’d had a not-so-minor freak-out about that, not the least of which was because of the mage prophecy that Sheila would be the destroyer of their race.

  Though Sheila had professed to have no desire to harm her or her child, much less commit genocide, Christy believed this info could be the catalyst to change all of that. If one mage could create such unholy abominations, didn’t that potentially make them all capable of such atrocities? While I didn’t believe for one second that would cause Sheila to change her attitude from helpful to stabby, I also realized it was Christy’s tale to tell. I’d already broken her trust enough for one lifetime.

  That being said, there were some parts I didn’t see any harm in sharing.

  “Sorry, they started mumbling,” I said as way of covering myself. “Lost them for a moment there. Seems they’re arguing over some spell that could stop the Jahabich.”

  “A spell?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Right before we got put on trial, Sally and I had to go deep underground to save Ed’s useless ass.”

  “Fuck you,” he said.

  “Make that his useless and ungrateful ass. Anyway, while we were in their lair, we saw some pictographs written on the wall. Seemed like hieroglyphics to me. But anyway, I thought it looked kinda neat, so I took a picture. Glad I did because Christy thinks it might actually be a spell that could be used against them. They’re discussing it now.”

  “Oh. That could be useful.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  * * *

  Christy and her group spent more time arguing over beliefs and dogma, at times heated enough that one didn’t need vampire hearing to listen in. Most of what was audible to the living were more cries of heresy or, a few times, Decker went off on a rant about what an oaf I was. Such a likeable guy.

  Finally, they got down to business, and that was about when I decided to tune out. Listening to mages discussing whether a symbol meant earth or some other stupid fucking thing was not nearly as interesting as one might think. It was kind of like watching Raiders of the Lost Ark, followed by the crushing realization that most field archaeology involved a lot of scrubbing rocks with toothbrushes.

  By then, it was getting late. Ed and Sheila were both snoozing in their respective chairs and Tom didn’t look too far behind. Some of the Templar had returned to the house to find places to crash, and daylight wasn’t too far off.

  I heard voices from the foyer. Dave, Mike, and Adam had returned. It was probably time to see what kind of chaos they’d caused. Afterwards, I needed to find Sally. That she’d been off wandering for so long was a bit worrisome.

  I stood and stretched, then took an extra-long moment to stare at Sheila as she slept. Yeah, it was probably borderline creepy, but I didn’t think I’d ever seen her in such a state of peace – especially since she’d become the Icon. It was nice to see her like that, and to hope she was having pleasant dreams free of the nastiness around us. She was also drooling, quite a bit. Eww.

  I was tempted to wake her up or maybe turn her over, but then hesitated. Her powers were basically a hand grenade as far as I was concerned. Awake, she was in control, but being rudely awakened could be akin to pulling the pin out. Yeah, best to let her drool.

  I walked out and turned toward the exit before stopping dead in my tracks.

  “There a shower in this place?” Adam asked.

  I could only dumbly point to the stairs leading up. “What the fuck happened to you guys?” I’d seen vampires bloodied up before, but these fuckers looked like they just came back from the rave scene at the beginning of Blade.

  The exception was Mike, who was both bloody and had several muddy hoof prints on the chest of his shirt.

  “I’d stay out of the barn if I were you,” Adam replied.

  “What the hell happened? Did you drink from that cow or throw it into a wood chipper?”

  “The cow wasn’t really all too cooperative,” Mike replied, gritting his teeth.

  “Oh and it wasn’t a cow,” Dave, the least messed up of the bunch, added. “It was a bull.”

  “I call dibs on first shower,” Mike said, heading upstairs.

  Adam followed. “Why do you get to go first?” he complained.

  “Because I’m the one it fucking trampled.”

  “Hey.” Dave tried to clap me on the shoulder, which I used my vampire reflexes to narrowly avoid. I liked the shirt I was wearing. “At least it wasn’t a person.”

  “Better hope none of these Templar are members of PETA.”

  He shrugged, then handed over a plastic container he’d been holding in his other hand. “Here. We saved you some.”

  “Thanks, I think,” I replied, taking it from him. True enough, it was full of a thick red liquid.

  “Oh, speaking of blood,” he started as I stepped past him to the door, “is Princess Sheila...”

  “She’s asleep. Wait until she wakes up. Oh, and definitely don’t surprise her looking like that. Trust me on this.”

  * * *

  I stepped outside into the cool night air. The steps leading up to the porch were covered in bloody footprints. Subtle, my friends were not.

  I took a moment to look around, found a garden hose, and spent a few minutes washing out the worst of it. No point in freaking out any Templar heading this way.

  Once done, I figured I’d earned a drink, so I took a swig of the cow blood. Not bad. Definitely different than what I was used to – more earthy, grassy than human blood. Either way, it seemed to do the trick. I wasn’t sure if it was a sustainable way to survive, but for the moment my stomach didn’t seem to object.

  I drained the container, hungrier than I realized I’d been, and immediately regretted doing so. I should have saved some. If I was feeling peckish after the past day of craziness, then Sally would be too. Sure, she’d probably topped off in Manhattan. Hell, knowing her, that was a certainty. Even so, it might’ve stopped her from wanting a snack break somewhere down the line.

  Oh well, it’s not like I was a mama bird and going to regurgitate it for her. I tossed the emptied container aside and let my nose take over. Sally was a lot of things, but cheap when it came to her personal hygiene was not one of them. Unless one of the Templar was Emma Frost having found religion, I sincerely doubted any of them used her particular over-priced brand of perfume.

  Once I reached the lineup of stolen cars, enough to keep a chop-shop happy for a week, it was easy to single Sally out from the crowd. Her scent led off into the night and I followed cautiously, conscious of surprising any red cloaks out patrolling the place.

  The land surrounding the farmhouse was vaster than I’d imagined, certainly a lot bigger than a city boy was used to. I’d only been walking for a few minutes, but when I looked back, I realized the house was already hidden from view. A small part of me wondered what it would be like to live out in the sticks ... being able to camp out yet still be on one’s own property. Of course, camping wasn’t really a bright idea for vampires. Our ancient enemies tended to take a dim view of our presence in or around the woods.

  I crested a rise and saw another field in front of me, this one covered in low growing vines – pumpkins or gourds judging from the few times I’d been out pumpkin picking with my parents as a kid. However, it was what lay in the middle of the field that caused my breath to catch.

  It was a body and, judging by its shapely curves, one I knew all too well.

  Catching Up

  Oh crap! I raced forward, fearing the worst. Unfortunately, my feet got tangled in the vines and I tripped, got tangled again, and went down face first. When I got back to my feet, I saw Sally sitting up and staring in my direction.

  “Some real stealth you got going on there,” she replied before casually lying down on her back again, putting her hands beh
ind her head. “You must’ve been a ninja in a former life.”

  “You’re okay?” I made my way toward her, a bit more carefully this time.

  “Of course.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Looking up at the stars. I...” She trailed off, almost as if she’d said too much.

  “What?”

  Sally let out a loud sigh. “Fine. I used to do this as a girl, except it was on my roof. I used to sneak out of our attic window at night.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced in my direction, apparently saw my look of confusion, and added, “What? I got blood on my face or something?”

  “No, it’s just ... I didn’t know that.”

  “Huh. Interesting.” She turned her head skyward and continued stargazing.

  I reached the section she was in, a small clearing in the patch, and sat down next to her. “You almost never talk about your life ... before.”

  “I thought you said we were friends.”

  “We are! You just, well, tend to live in the present and...”

  The sound of her laughter cut me off. “Relax, Bill. That’s not too surprising to hear. It was a different life, a different me. I don’t care to mix the world of today with one that’s dead and buried.”

  I lay down next to her and gazed upward. She was right – it was quite the view. The experience was only diminished by the certainty that something nasty was probably gonna crawl all over me lying down in the dirt like this. Yeah, I’m a wuss when it comes to the outdoors. “Well, if you ever want to talk about it...”

  “I won’t,” she replied brusquely. After a few moments, she said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap.”

  “It’s okay. I can imagine things are a bit stressful for you.”

  “Can you really? It’s like there are two different versions of me – the way I was back when Jeff was lording over Village Coven, and me today. That’s not a lot of time difference, yet there’ve been some pretty major changes.”

  “Indeed there have.” I enjoyed the feeling of being alone with her with nothing trying to kill us for a change.