The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou)

by Rick Gualtieri

  Alas, no such luck. I found a few coven members milling about a dead body, a not uncommon sight. Seeing no sign of Sally, and not really wanting to know much more about the circumstances around their kill – I lost enough sleep as it was – I decided to try the Office instead.

  Much to my surprise, Starlight, still in her conscripted role as secretary, told me that Sally was in. I started toward her office, but Star held up a hand. She hooked a thumb and pointed it toward the back. Upon my questioning glance, she smiled sheepishly and made it a point to get back to typing.

  Okay, whatever that meant. I turned toward the rear of the floor. There was a changing area, complete with full shower facilities at the back. It was a handy thing to have for vampires. Unlike me, a good deal of the coven preferred their food alive and squirming. That ensured things tended to get messy. Stain resistant carpets, French drains, and places to clean up were necessities for any facility owned and operated by vamps.

  Perhaps Sally had just returned from a hunt. She definitely had no problems with taking live prey. Considering how she looked – petite, blonde, and absolutely gorgeous – she didn’t often have much problem attracting her next meal. On the upside, if she was in the back room, that meant I had a chance of sneaking a peek at her in the shower. It would probably get me slugged – and Sally could pack a hell of a punch for her size – but it would be worth it. No question there.

  As I got closer, my sensitive vampire ears began to pick up sounds from ahead. There was definitely water running, although it sounded more like one of the sinks. That wasn’t what caught my ear, though. I picked up heavy, content breathing complimented by the occasional sigh of pleasure. I stopped walking, but continued to listen. Sure eavesdropping was rude, but fuck that shit. Being the head of a vampire coven meant never having to apologize.

  The sighs continued. It sounded like ... holy shit! Was she getting it on with someone? Here, I was struck by a moral dilemma (something rare in the vampire community). On the one hand, Sally was allowed her privacy. She was my partner in the coven. Hell, she had saved my ass on more than one occasion. She deserved it. On the flipside, when was I going to get another chance to see her getting plowed? Oh, yeah, that decided it.

  But still, I hesitated. Something didn’t feel right about this. After a moment, I pulled out my cell phone and turned the camera on. Now it felt right.

  Holding it in front of me, I hit “record” and walked through the door.

  “Don’t mind me,” I cheerfully called out. “Just keep on doing what you’re...” What the hell was she doing?

  Sally, wearing a silk robe, sat in a chair with her bare feet immersed in a portable foot bath. As for the rest of her, the chair was inclined and her head was leaning back in one of the sinks. A somewhat effeminate looking man, one I had never seen before, was busy washing her hair.

  Upon hearing my voice, she opened her eyes and raised her head. She looked at me, then at my phone, cocking an eyebrow in the process. “Nice try, Bill,” she said, leaning back again.

  “What the...” I stammered. The man gave me the once over, sniffed, and then went back to rinsing her hair. “Who is this?”

  Without moving, Sally gave another sigh of contentment. “Bill, meet Alfonzo. Alfonzo, Bill.”

  “Alfonzo?”

  “He’s my stylist,” she explained as if that answered anything.

  “Stylist? You can’t just bring a person...” I stepped forward and took a breath. I smelled shampoo, conditioner, Sally’s expensive perfume – damn, she smelled nice, not that I would ever tell her – and something else. My senses weren’t as acute as an older vampire’s, but at Sally’s insistence, I had been practicing. For a moment, I was confused, but then I realized what it was. Alfonzo wasn’t human.

  “What the hell did you do?” I snapped.

  Alfonzo, thinking I was speaking to him, replied in a nasally accent, “I am accentuating her highlights in preparation for...”

  I tuned out the rest. Jeez, I hated to stereotype, but this guy sounded just like I would imagine an overpriced SoHo stylist. We’re talking a grade-A, bad Inspector Clouseau imitation here.

  “Not you. In fact, would you mind giving Sally and me a moment?”

  “Impossible!” he spat in a prissy tone. “The color must be managed down to ze’ precise...”

  “GET OUT!!” I commanded. Compulsion was another thing Sally had been bugging me to practice. I hadn’t thought much of it before then, as I hadn’t met too many vampires younger than myself. Still, I immediately saw how it could come in handy.

  Though my compulsion wasn’t nearly the strength of some others, it had the desired effect. Alfonzo’s eyes glazed over. He straightened up and, without another word, marched from the room, shutting the door behind him.

  “Finally got that figured out?” Sally asked conversationally from where she still reclined.

  “Thanks to you. Now, if you’d be so kind, can you please explain Alfonzo?”

  She raised her head to meet my gaze. “I already told you. He’s my stylist. He’s been doing my hair for years. Oh, the things that man can do to a scalp.”

  “Fascinating, I’m sure. And has Alfonzo always been a vampire?”

  “No.”

  “So you turned him?”

  “Yep. That’s typically how it works.”

  “WHY?” I snapped.

  She looked at me innocently before answering, “I’ve been stressed and Alfonzo’s salon has been all booked up.”

  “So you turned him into a vampire?”

  “Seemed like a good idea at the time. We’re still short on members and he does great work. You really should let him give you a manicure. Your nails are looking a little ratty. He is heaven with a file...”

  “I don’t need a manicure. And who the fuck gave you permission to recruit new members?”

  She just arched her eyebrows at me. In front of the others, I was in charge. Behind the scenes, though, she was on equal terms with me ... maybe even slightly more than equal. Her look told me she wasn’t about to be intimidated.

  Trying another tactic, I changed my tone. “Besides, weren’t you the one who told me that only the coven master could recruit? That there were rituals that needed to be respected?”

  She appeared to consider this for a moment before blithely answering, “Yeah, but you said it yourself ... those rituals are stupid.”

  Damn, she had me there. There were formal rites that were supposed to be performed when one was accepted into a coven, but they were idiotic, not much better than a fraternity initiation. I had told her as much on more than one occasion, not considering that she would probably use my words against me. I should’ve known better. Sally was a rattlesnake in a size-four dress and three-inch heels.

  “Besides, I thought you wanted to branch out from the typical muscle heads that Jeff used to recruit.”

  Again, she had me. Jeff had been a spoiled, pretty-boy, douchebag asshole. As such, all the other males in the coven had likewise been of similar caliber. They and I had proven to be a bad mix. Thanks to the Khan’s assassins, however, there were now far fewer of them to contend with. That aside, though, I had been putting off active recruitment for the coven because ... well, it just seemed like such a fucking evil thing to do. Sure, there were plenty of Goth weirdos who would jump at the chance to be moody for all of eternity, but I had envisioned a coven populated by a more normal, well-adjusted crowd. The problem was, how did you approach someone like that with the offer of, “Hey, can I kill you so you can join my army of the undead?” Apparently, Sally wasn’t concerned with minor details such as this.

  “Yes,” I said. “But that didn’t mean you had free rein to make someone your eternal slave just because they happen to do a passable job of covering up your roots.”

  “I’ll have you know I’m a natural blonde.”

  “Yeah, and I look like Johnny Depp,” I countered.

  “You might look more like him if you let Alfonzo give you a mak
eover.”

  “I’ll pass on the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy treatment for now. I think we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

  “Fine. Pull up a chair, but can you let Alfonzo back in first?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because if I wind up with streaks in my hair, you aren’t going to live long enough to let a Sasquatch kill you.”

  The Dude with the Crazy Eyes

  I don’t know why I ever bothered talking to Sally. It almost never made me feel better. Well okay, the sight of her cleavage often made me feel better, but it was superficial compared to the pounding migraines I usually ended up with.

  Case in point, as the coven’s newest recruit continued to tend to her hair with more care than I’ve seen most parents show to a newborn, Sally blithely told me about how she pretty much knew everything I had come over to talk about. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.

  “You know about the special envoy they’re sending?”

  “Of course. I keep tabs with Boston.”

  “And you didn’t tell me because...”

  “As I said, I’ve been stressed. It slipped my mind.”

  “Well, did you know we’re going to be having company, as in company that just so happens to use magic and wants me dead?”

  “Yep, heard that, too. Pity they’re going to be under a flag of truce. Otherwise, I’d say it’d be a good opportunity to make them disappear.” She said this last part conversationally, her eyes closing as Alfonzo continued to work her scalp. “Oh, and before you ask, yes, I know that your roommates are coming, too.”

  “Boston knows about that?” I asked. Were the assholes spying on me now?

  “No, but let’s face facts: they follow you everywhere. It’s like you live with two lost puppies. Speaking of which, remind Ed to bring his shotgun ... just to be on the safe side.”

  “I’ll remind him to bring a box of condoms and some penicillin, too ... just to be on the safe side.”

  She sniffed at the dig. Some months back, Ed had asked her out and she had agreed, much to my surprise. They hadn’t gone on a second date, but I suspected that had a little to do with the fact that I completely freaked out upon learning of the first one. Since then, they had both asked about each other a few times, leading me to believe there was probably some unfinished business between them.

  Truth be told, I wasn’t jealous of them developing a relationship. Well okay, I wasn’t that jealous. Don’t get me wrong. If given the opportunity, I’d happily bang Sally. You just don’t say “no” to a piece of ass that fine. Nevertheless, I had my sights set elsewhere. I was more against their relationship out of fear for Ed. Sally was the femme fatale that James Bond had nightmares about. If the mood struck her, she could use Ed, break him, and then treat him like a Happy Meal without a second thought.

  “Just make sure Tom leaves at least some of his stupidity at home,” she added.

  “As if that’s even possible,” I replied with a grin.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I found myself back at the Loft on Saturday. Boston had informed Sally that preparations were nearly complete. Our guest would be arriving that night to fill us in on the details. We were also informed that the information about to be imparted to us was for our ears only. Apparently, knowledge of Sally’s status as my silent partner wasn’t as silent as we had thought.

  We decided the Loft made the most sense for this meeting. It was easy enough to tell the rest of the coven to find somewhere else to be for the night. Sally also didn’t want to meet at the Office and run the risk of having to shut down her precious hotline. God forbid the city be allowed one night where its people weren’t being harvested like cattle.

  I arrived early and had to listen to her go on and on about the fabulous job Alfonzo had done with her hair. The changes were pretty subtle – some layering and a little extra body added (did I actually just think that?). That being said, some people pulled off subtle far better than others. Sally’s one of them. However, letting her know that wouldn’t be any fun.

  “So what did he do?” I asked innocently. “Clean out any excess lice and rat droppings?”

  A few minutes later, she was distracted from trying to break into the bathroom – where I was hiding – to answer the door. Saved by the bell. And yes, it was totally worth it.

  As she disengaged the multiple heavy-duty locks, I slipped out and assumed a casual position on the couch. I was fairly sure the elder vampires already had a relatively low opinion of me. I saw no reason to exacerbate it further by letting them see Sally and me acting like ten-year-olds.

  She slipped me a sour smile and then opened the door. While she did so, I indulged in a little fantasy involving a sword swinging through the open doorway and decapitating her before she had a chance to make even a single snarky remark.

  Alas, no such luck. Instead, a voice said, “Hello, my name is Alex. I believe you are expecting me.”

  Sigh. What was it with the formality? Did vampires above a certain age become allergic to contractions?

  Sally stepped aside and made a welcoming gesture. As our guest walked past, I could see her sizing him up, and not entirely in a sisterly manner either, if you get my drift. She looked up from his ass just in time to meet my questioning gaze. Realizing she had been caught, she quickly turned to close the door.

  As usual with the vampire world, the person who stood before me was nothing like I expected. This guy was supposed to be a specialist, hand-picked by the Draculas. As such, I was expecting some Nosferatu-looking dude in a severe black and white suit. Sure, I had never actually seen a vamp who looked like that, but still, this guy had flown in from Europe. I had figured that maybe over in the old country they still respected tradition, or at least the tradition established by multiple Christopher Lee movies.

  The newcomer was a few inches shorter than me, but his shortcomings ended there (figures). He was broad shouldered and obviously had a strong build beneath the unassuming leather jacket he wore. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a laptop bag rounded out his look. Hell, the dude looked like he could have just driven over from some construction site in Jersey. It seemed the Draculas weren’t big on giving their minions a hefty expense account for wardrobe purposes.

  Moving on to the rest of him: he had wavy dark blond hair and a smooth complexion. However, what stood out most of all were his eyes. An intense gaze met my own, one that was augmented by the fact that two different colored eyes peered out of his head: one a bright green, the other brown. Hell, I thought Huskies were the only ones like that.

  Thus, instead of saying something non-idiotic like “Hi,” I instead asked, “Contacts?”

  “Excuse me?” he answered in a slightly accented voice.

  “Your eyes,” I said. Hey, in for a penny of stupidity... “Are you wearing colored contacts?”

  I heard Sally sigh. No doubt I was breaking some established protocol for visiting dignitaries. However, being that our guest looked like he had just gotten off a motorcycle, I figured I was justified for not dropping to one knee and looking for a ring to kiss.

  If Alex was insulted by my question, he didn’t show it. “You have a unique way of introducing yourself,” he replied in a bemused voice. He held out a hand and repeated his initial greeting. “My name is Alex. I am here as a representative of the First Coven to assist you, and this is my natural eye color. Any other questions?”

  I smiled back, half amazed. Though I had met only a small subset, my dealings with the vampire world had led me to believe it was mostly populated with self-absorbed, humor-deficient assholes. Thus, to meet a vamp who obviously had some rank behind him (the Draculas were rumored to be very picky about who they hung out with) yet wasn’t immediately oozing with douchebag vibes was a pleasant surprise. I reached out my hand and shook his.