“Omelets and eggs,” she waved a hand around. “So, anyway, I figured we all needed a break. Besides, they wanted to celebrate the good news.”
“What good news?”
“Well...”
“Spill it, Sally.”
She hesitated. “I sort of let what happened up north slip out.”
Burning Down the House
“You what?”
Back when we arrived home from the frozen wasteland that is Canada - fresh from hearing the declaration of the impending global Armageddon - we’d decided it would be best to not share the wonderful news with the rest of the coven. Some of the more violent members of our merry little group weren’t particularly happy with me as of late. Curbing their murder sprees didn’t make me number one on their friend lists.
That Sally had apparently announced to the group that their illustrious leader had managed to incompetently fuck them all over by starting a war wasn’t exactly music to my ears. I found myself starting to wonder if this little soiree of hers wasn’t going to be a going away (permanently) party for me.
“I was starting to get questions, mostly about where you were, what was going on, et cetera. I figured a little good news would keep them distracted.”
“You have an interesting definition of good news,” I swung my arms in frustration. “Hey guys, guess what? We’re all gonna be overrun by giant fucking monkeys. Let’s party!”
“You really are a negative Nancy, you know that?”
“Enlighten me as to the bright side, oh wise one,” I spat back.
“It’s not the information itself that’s important - it’s all about perception. Hell, turn on Fox news at six PM and tell me that’s not true.”
I couldn’t argue with that one.
“I gave the coven an edited version of the events up north,” she explained, “starting with your brilliant battle against the Sasquatch leader in which your Freewill powers proved the deciding factor.”
“Turd?”
“I left out his name. Figured that would blunt some of the impact.” She stopped to adjust one of her high heels, continuing her tale once she was finished. “Following their pathetic defeat, they begged for peace, not wishing to risk your wrath.”
“Spreading on the bullshit a little thick, aren’t you?”
“Yep, and they ate it like it was filet mignon. Now stop interrupting me. Finally, the vampire nation agreed to a new treaty, but you would have none of that. You stood up and inspired us all with a speech, reminding us of the glory of old - how we were once conquerors, a people to be feared. With you at the helm and the might of the Draculas behind you, we could reclaim our former station in life. Thus said, you stood, drew your dagger and slew their leader, proclaiming that from this day forth we would no longer be content with hiding in the shadows.”
“Uh huh. For starters, that was Nergui, and it was Turd’s daughter he killed.”
“So what? It’s not like either of them are gonna contradict you.”
She had a point there. Nergui, Gan’s chief assassin, had murdered the Bigfoot leader’s daughter to satisfy his mistress’s insane desire to keep me for herself. His mission accomplished, he had done nothing to stop the other Sasquatches from tearing him limb from limb for his crimes.
The only ones who knew the truth were...well, the shitload of beings who’d attended the peace conference. Still, I had to remind myself that I ran one little coven in the grand scheme of things. Considering most of the vamps under my leadership were vacuous douchebags, it wasn’t surprising the rest of the supernatural world didn’t exactly keep them in the loop.
“And they believed all of that?” I asked.
“Yep, and even if some of them didn’t, they’re not going to call you out on it.”
“And now, in addition to all the other crap they believe about me, they think I’m going to lead them to some glorious vampire ruled future?”
“Yep. Congratulations, Bill. As far as Village Coven is concerned, you are officially the undead messiah.”
Why didn’t that exactly inspire me with confidence?
* * *
As we began our walk to the loft, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. It made me wish I had spent more time working out. On top of all of that, though, there was one more tiny detail to add to my growing list of personal baggage.
“Couldn’t have told me in advance about the party, could you?” I glanced down at my jacket and camo sweatpants that contrasted with Sally’s heels, tight dress and well-coifed hair.
“Would you have come?”
“No.”
“Now you know why I didn’t tell you,” she smirked.
“You could have at least picked me up a change of clothes, then.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Bill, but I don’t answer to the call of ‘attention K-mart shoppers’.” Bitch! “Besides, it fits your story better. You look like you just came in from a training exercise in the field.” She gave me the once-over and sighed, “Well, sorta.”
“You didn’t tell them anything about the Icon, did you?”
“Fuck no. My tongue is golden, but I wasn’t about to touch that one.”
“We can’t keep it a secret forever, you know.”
“I know, but I sure as shit want to try. It’ll be bad enough once they know she exists, but it would be best if nobody found out it was all because of your misguided case of puppy love.”
I glowered at her. She had no idea how deep my feelings for Sheila ran.
“Boston doesn’t know what happened, either.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I didn’t even tell James.”
“He’s back?”
“Returned to the states a week ago. Gave me a call to see how things were going.”
James is a six-hundred year old vampire and former contemporary of Marco Polo. He’s also a freshly minted member of the Draculas. Leaving out something this important wasn’t usually an option with them, at least for those of us who cared to keep breathing. I was happy that they didn’t know about the Icon yet, but it would be less awesome once they discovered everything later, especially my connection to her.
“You didn’t tell them anything?”
“I didn’t talk to them, just James. No fucking way was I letting Colin know shit about anything.” Colin was James’s assistant, and a weaselly little suck-up of a vampire. The second he learned something, you could be sure anyone who outranked him knew about it, too.
“And you didn’t mention...”
“Relax, Bill. All I gave him was a mundane status report and a quick note that you were taking some time off.”
I stopped and turned to face her. “Really?”
“Yes really. If I told them even the slightest thing, the entire city would be crawling with vampire hitmen by now. I said just enough to make us look like good undead citizens. Hopefully this will give us a little more time to figure things out on our own.”
I had been so busy feeling sorry for myself and trying to keep Christy from finding out, that I hadn’t bothered to consider the vampire nation might take a nuke it from orbit approach. In all likelihood, Sally had saved Sheila’s life.
“Th-thanks,” I stammered.
“Oh don’t get all drippy on me,” she said dismissively. “I’m doing it more for me anyway. I don’t want to have to listen to you whine about it for the next century or two.”
“That’s very...human of you, Sally.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she sniffed and started walking again. “Let’s go, we’re late enough as it is.”
“Think James would have kept it to himself?”
“Doubt it. That’s why I only gave him a status report. Even if he had wanted to keep a lid on things, he’d probably still need to inform the other Draculas, especially Alex.”
My fangs extended and my lips pulled back in a grimace. “Once he finds out the truth, I bet he’ll be creaming his pants knowing that one of his precious prophesies has c
ome true.”
“No doubt, but the rest of the Draculas probably won’t be nearly as pleased. It could cause a panic. Once word gets out, vamps halfway around the world will see the Icon hiding under their bed. With the war looming, they don’t need that crap right now.”
Sheila hiding under my bed? Now there was a thought. Unfortunately, any relationship with her was going to be facing some difficulties in the days ahead. Talk about an understatement. She was capable of frying me extra crispy with just a touch. That made even a handshake, much less anything more intimate, a tad difficult. Hell, that might not even be the half of it. If she was like me, perhaps she also had a few hidden tricks in her arsenal of powers.
I got sidetracked before I could ride that train of thought very far, though. As the building that housed the loft came into view, I realized something wasn’t quite right. The first floor was dark.
“They closed the bar?”
“I heard they’re renovating the place. Probably gonna take a couple of months too. Pity, guess it’ll be nothing but take out for a while.”
The loft occupied the third floor. With the exception of the bar, the entire structure was coven territory. The noise from the small club at street level drowned out any of the atrocities that occurred in other sections of the building. Though the hunters in the coven were usually careful to keep most of their activities spread throughout the city, the bar also proved handy in times of need, or so I was told. I strictly stick to the bottled stuff, although Tom and Ed were often (rightfully so) quick to question where our bottled blood came from. I try to convince myself we get it from hospitals and other willing donors, but I’m not a complete idiot. Let’s just say that there are some instances where a policy of don’t ask, don’t tell is necessary to maintain one’s sanity.
Remembering the night I was turned and the others in attendance that weren’t as lucky as me, I wasn’t overly dismayed to see the bar closed. It might mean whatever party Sally had planned would be relatively trauma free (for me and any hors d’oeuvres unlucky enough to be present). All things considered, I found myself hoping that they’d take their sweet-ass time renovating the place.
“Come on, Bill, stop day dreaming,” Sally said, prodding me on. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a few stiff drinks to drown out the dorkitude of the day.”
I stopped dilly-dallying and followed her. Maybe she was right. I probably did need to relax a little. Besides which, it’s not like it would all be torture. There would definitely be some eye-candy on display, and I certainly wasn’t above playing Willy Wonka for an evening. Adding hard liquor to the mix wasn’t bad for that equation either. Hell, a few months back I had walked in on Firebird and Vanessa, two of the looser members of the coven, topless and making out. They had been shit-faced drunk and didn’t care who had watched. Talk about a fang bang. I definitely wouldn’t say no if given a chance to see that show again. The last time had fueled my personal fantasies for quite a few weeks.
For the first time that evening, I allowed myself a genuine smile. Maybe Sally was right. The world could wait for one more night, especially if the night held the promise of seeing some tits.
Sadly, fate took a perverse pleasure in waiting for me to drop my guard just before blowing up in my face. That night was no different...quite literally in fact. Sally and I had just reached the front door when our world exploded in green flame.
Like Falling Asleep in a Giant Blender
Flying is such a pleasant sensation. Nothing, save the very air around you, caresses your being - almost like being in the womb again. It was a pity flight was not amongst the supernatural powers I achieved upon awakening as a vampire.
Mind you, it was a lot more pleasant when I wasn’t on fire. Go figure.
Fortunately for my muddled brain, the concussive wave that hit me had done its job quite nicely. I drifted away from the loft, or what remained of it, almost as if in slow motion. Each foot I flew felt like days passed. With no video games, internet porn, or similar distractions, it gave me some downtime to reflect on the recent past.
* * *
I don’t know too much about vampire lore. What I do know, though, is: faith is power. It’s not so much about God, or whoever else you pray to, as it is about the raw belief. A strong enough belief can actually tap into the magic of the world around us - magic that’s not particularly friendly to vampires.
Most people are too shallow to be able to do anything with it. A few, though, are either devout or insane enough to utilize it. Tom was a good example of that latter group. Months back, he had become so enamored with a Transformer toy, that he managed to imbue it with a little of that magic. Pretty messed up, I know, but true none the less. What should have been a kid’s toy was transformed, pun intended, into the equivalent of a crucifix from those old Peter Cushing movies - albeit slightly more embarrassing to be attacked with.
It’s bad enough for vampires that some folks can empower small objects this way, but for truly exceptional people, it can work on a much larger scale. Many of the heroes of old were able to tap into this energy. They were known by many names: the Shining Ones, the Silver Eyes, and, more commonly, Icons - short for icons of faith. The source of their power was a deep seated belief in their own abilities. I’m sure this resulted in most of them being egomaniacal assholes, nevertheless their faith in themselves was so strong their entire bodies became conduits for this form of magic, rendering them...well I’m not entirely sure. All I know for certain is that they could fuck up vampires with only a touch and that their powers made them particularly resistant to other kinds of magic, too.
What were the odds that the one girl on the planet that I desperately wanted a relationship with would be amongst their number?
Apparently better than I would have guessed.
* * *
I relived that day again. I had just dragged the vampire world into a death match with our ancient enemies in the Woods of Mourning. Things looked fairly shitty, but her presence had immediately made everything else seem petty in comparison.
But it was different this time - she was different. Sheila had quit her job at Hopskotchgames - where I still worked as a programmer - to pursue her own destiny. We had been growing closer in the months since I had first asked her out for coffee - not as romantic as I would have liked, but a bond had formed nevertheless. I hadn’t known it at the time, but my encouragement had apparently struck a nerve deep inside of her. That newfound confidence grew until it awoke the potential within her.
“I believe in you. I believe you can do better,” I had said. Little did I know how much better she could do. How much better she could become.
She was different that day. The way she dressed, walked, talked, held herself...it was all her, but somehow to the nth degree. She was once quiet and unassuming, but in her place that day stood someone who was utterly unafraid of the world. My God, she was marvelous to behold.
Our time together that evening culminated in the moment I had been dreaming of ever since meeting her. We kissed.
Or at least we would have. Instead, my proximity caused her newfound powers to flare up, sending me flying - not unlike what I was doing now - enveloped in pure white-hot flame.
I’m pretty sure that alone would have put the kibosh on our make-out session, but then I had to up the ante on our little game of super-power poker.
Her unexpected surge of power activated the beast within me, and I’m not just talking about being a horny, single guy either. Whatever makes me a Freewill also comes with some nasty perks. Under extreme stress, pain, or anger I change. Into what, I’m not sure, but I become much stronger and a hell of a lot meaner. I’m kinda like the Hulk if he had a craving for blood clots.
Maybe Sheila’s power would have protected her, maybe not. All I knew was that I couldn’t risk hurting her. Before it could completely take over, I took off. In a lot of ways, I haven’t stopped running.
* * *
Since encountering Sheila and her
newfound power, I’d been doing my damnedest to avoid anything supernatural - vampires, Icons, wizards, you name it. Believe me, I felt like shit about it. Not so much for the vampires or wizards, - most of them can go fuck themselves sideways with a rusty cheese grater - but for her. I can only imagine what she was going through, discovering she’s not quite human anymore. Unlike me, however, there wasn’t anyone to teach her the ropes or offer her a helping hand. Sally may be a bitch, but she was my lifeline in those early days. Not so for Sheila, though. If anything, she would have a price on her head should anyone else learn of her birth.
It figured. I’m one of the few who would willingly reach out to help her make the transition and, as luck would have it, I’m fated to be her arch enemy - according to vampire lore anyway. She’s either destined to destroy me or I’m going to wind up killing her. Stupid fucking vampire prophets! What a bunch of assholes.
Of course, that’s only half the issue. The other reason I haven’t reached out to her is simple...I’m a goddamned pussy when it comes to women.
Especially her.
Now You See It...
The cold hard reality of my body slamming down onto the asphalt brought me back. I bounced once, twice, vaguely aware of the green sparks flying off of me as I slid into the middle of the street. For anyone watching from the sidelines, I’m sure it looked pretty goddamned awesome.
I finally skidded to a halt, hoping my vampiric healing kicked in before my nerve endings started working again. The buildings towered over me for what felt like weeks. Finally, the screech of tires and the familiar cursing that is second nature to city dwellers rung out around me. They could call me a cocksucking dick nozzle all they wanted, but at least they didn’t run me over.
I blinked a few times and the faces staring down at me came into focus.
“Is he hurt?”
“Dude’s completely shit-faced.”
“Goddamn homeless assholes!”
“Get out of the street and get a job you fucking faggot.”
Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill) Page 3
