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

by Rick Gualtieri

  Adding to the stress was having one of our ruling body’s bigwigs, none other than Alexander the Great himself, outmaneuver me. The First Coven, our so-called leaders, is more widely known by the nickname the Draculas. Being outmaneuvered not only by one of the greatest military strategists of all time, but a senior member of that merry little bunch, wasn’t exactly something to hang your head about. It’s kind of like being bummed because you lost a game of Trivial Pursuit to Albert Einstein. It still sucked, though.

  That Alex was happily looking forward to my part in the coming conflict wasn’t helping matters either. It was yet another stupid vampire prophecy they kept beating me over the head with – The Freewill shall lead our armies against our enemies or some such bullshit. As far as I was concerned, he could go fuck himself ... not that I was about to say so to his face.

  One would think that’d be enough to send me straight to the closest bar, intent on drowning my sorrows, but fate had one more kick to the balls in mind for me ... Sheila

  “It’s settled, then,” Sally said with a tone of finality – dragging me out of my reverie. “Bill and I are heading to the Loft.”

  “Need us to stick around?” Ed asked, drawing an exasperated sigh from me. Though his tone was innocent enough, there was little doubt of his ulterior motive. He and Sally had been dating behind my back for the past few months. Though they both claimed it was just casual, Ed had been on the receiving end of a vampire hickey from her while up in Canada. As psycho as it was – and believe me, a human trying to do anything with Sally may as well be on suicide watch – he was obviously positioning himself for an undead booty call.

  “Nice try, stud,” she said. “But we have vampire business to discuss. You can stick around, but I can’t guarantee you won’t wind up an appetizer. Double that for the flesh-ball next to you.”

  “Dropping off it is, then.” Ed took the hint, immediately ending that line of questioning. He was smart enough to know when not to push his luck.

  Tom let the insult slide. “No problem. Besides, Christy said she’s gonna pop by later.”

  Once we stopped, I’d considered shoving Sally out of the car and telling Ed to floor it. With the mention of his girlfriend’s name, though, Tom was able to completely reverse that plan of action. The undead weren’t the only ones with prophecies.

  Vampires are far from being the only secret the world holds. Magic, monsters, and other fantastical shit – stuff that most of us assume exists only in the realm of movies, books, or role-playing games – are real. Not all of it, mind you, but enough to make most people crap their pants and run screaming for the hills. There is an underworld of horrific creatures existing all around us, hidden just out of plain sight. The rabbit hole goes pretty goddamn deep, too.

  Christy is a witch, a real one. She can teleport, fire energy blasts, and control Tom with just a few sucks of his dick. Oh wait, any woman could do that last one.

  Typically, vampires and mages were kind of like cats and dogs. Under some circumstances, they’ll tangle with one another, but most of the time they’re content to just go about their own business with a little posturing, but not much else. There are always exceptions, though.

  I’m one of them, and that’s not just an ego thing to make the bulge in my pants look bigger. I’m what’s known as a Freewill, a rare type of vampire. In the distant past they led armies, crushed their enemies, and were generally even bigger dicks than normal vamps. Then, out of nowhere, they disappeared. No one knows why. For whatever reason, I’m the first in over half a millennium.

  Thanks to that little detail, I’d been number one on her coven’s hit list for a while now (the assholes stole the coven idea from vampires, by the way). See, the wizarding world has a pretty big Sword of Damocles hanging above their head in the form of their own prophecy surrounding vampire Freewills. Lucky me.

  Supposedly, my “birth” heralded the beginning of their end. They didn’t exactly take kindly to it either. Their first act, as way of introduction, was an attempt to fireball my ass into oblivion. All because my existence meant that the Icons would return.

  Love Nest

  “Stop here,” Sally commanded.

  “We’re still six blocks away,” Ed argued, his eyebrows visibly raised in the rearview mirror.

  “Exactly,” she said. “I have an image to maintain. No offense, but being dropped off after a night of paintball isn’t exactly the height of coolness.”

  Ed shrugged and pulled over to the side, double parking in the process.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” I said, stepping from the SUV. “Say hi to Christy for me.”

  “Oh, I’ll do more than say hi,” Tom said with a creepy grin.

  “Like I really needed to know that,” Sally groaned as she joined me on the sidewalk.

  I smiled uneasily at Tom. He was one of my best and oldest friends, and I felt like a piece of shit lying to him, but it was for the best. When push came to shove, he was particularly bad at keeping things from Christy.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I had gotten lucky upon returning home the night I’d been enlightened as to the Icon’s identity. Tom had been out, which was good because the first thing I did upon walking in the door was spill my guts. Ed patiently sat through my pathetic soliloquy and, upon hearing me out, had suggested it might be best to keep my fucking mouth shut around Tom.

  I felt bad in doing so. He was my bud and we didn’t keep things from each other ... even stuff the other really didn’t want to know. Hell, I knew far too many disturbing details of his and Christy’s sex life as it was.

  I wasn’t feeling too happy about keeping it from her either. Despite us getting off to a rocky start, we had managed to come to a somewhat peaceful coexistence as of late.

  Christy becoming aware of my role in the Icon’s creation would probably undo all of that progress, especially since I had managed to convince her I would have nothing to do with it. Sue me for not being psychic. Unfortunately, as far as I was aware, her coven, and more importantly their leader, Harry Decker, still wanted me dead. Though I was sure the truth would come out eventually, I saw no reason to give them any further fuel to add to that murderous fire.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “What should we do with this?” Ed gestured at the stolen SUV he was still sitting behind the wheel of.

  Sally shrugged nonchalantly. “Keep it, sell it, burn it, I don’t give a shit what you do. But you might want to consider doing so before the cops find its owner ... or what’s left of him.”

  She flashed him a wicked grin and started walking. Ed turned a shade paler in the glow of the city lights. I offered him my best apologetic glance and turned to follow Sally.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Where are you going?”

  She veered down an unfamiliar side street before we were even halfway to the Loft, one of the coven’s prime hangouts.

  “Pit stop,” she replied before walking up to the entrance of a building and unlocking a few bolts.

  I followed her up the stairs. “New digs?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Taking me up for an illicit encounter?”

  She flipped me the finger over her shoulder and continued up. We arrived at the fifth floor, where a metal security door awaited. Sally punched a code into a keypad, produced a different key and unlatched another series of locks.

  Intrigued, I followed her in.

  “This is new,” I remarked while she flipped on the lights. With the exception of a few rooms, it was an open floor plan not entirely dissimilar to the Loft. However, this place had a more Spartan, utilitarian feel. Heavy load-bearing columns broke up the main room. Thick bars adorned all the windows and there were odd symbols painted at intervals along the walls. “Let me guess, this is a sex dungeon and I’m your prisoner.”

  “Not even in your sickest fantasies.”

  “You have no idea how sick some of my...”

  “That wasn’t an invitation to enlighten me, Bill.�
�� She walked into one of the rooms and closed the door behind her, the click of the lock echoing through the room.

  I strolled over and casually gave the doorknob a jiggle. It didn’t budge.

  “So what is this place?”

  “You know,” said her voice from the other side, “you really should be concentrating on defending yourself rather than asking stupid questions.”

  “Why?”

  “The Alma are big, but they can be surprisingly quiet when they want to be.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Oh shit! I turned and put my back against the door, scanning the room for any sign of movement.

  Alma was the Mongolian name for Sasquatch. They were the physical forms of forest spirits ... big hairy physical forms that smelled like shit. Worse than that, they hated vampires and were more than capable of fucking one up six ways to Sunday. The undead might be physically powerful, but a half-ton of angry ape can go a long way toward tipping the odds.

  “What the fuck did you do, Sally?” I tried to make it sound tough and failed miserably in the process. Had the Draculas captured one and sent it down here for me to train with? That didn’t sound so far-fetched. Older vampires can control younger ones psychically through a means known as compulsion. As far as I know, I’m the only one who’s immune to it. If a vampire of sufficient age wanted Sally to do something, she wouldn’t have much choice.

  Normally when I think of compulsion, I imagine the vampire hierarchy using it to get chicks like her to open wide and say AH ... but maybe that’s just me. I had to keep reminding myself that most other vamps used their powers for slightly more diabolical reasons.

  It was possible this was punishment for me mouthing off constantly to those who outranked me. Either way, if one of those foul-odored monstrosities got its hands on me before I could...

  Wait! A variety of scents filtered into my sensitive nostrils: Sally’s perfume, some mustiness from the air vents, and the vague scent of whatever cleaner had been used on the floor here ... Pine-sol, maybe. Nothing that smelled like a walking fur coat dipped in diarrhea.

  Still, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. They could have shampooed the goddamned thing just to throw me off. I crouched into a defensive position and continued watching the room.

  There came a soft click from behind me – the lock on the door. Oh crap, was the Bigfoot in...

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Sally asked before I could turn around.

  I spun to face her, still attempting my best Kung-Fu stance, and my mouth dropped open. She wore a tight, red off-the-shoulder cocktail dress.

  “Eyes up here, perv.”

  It took me a second to compose myself. The fact that Sally was a prime piece of ass never failed to get my attention.

  “But what about the Alma?”

  “Don’t tell me you actually believed that.” She broke out in laughter.

  “There’s no...”

  “Of course not! What the hell would I be doing keeping one of those fucking things locked up in the middle of the city?”

  “Then what is this place? Why are you dressed like that? Why did you tell me there was a Bigfoot here?”

  “On that last one ... why not?” she replied chuckling. “As for the others, welcome to our new safe house.” I raised an eyebrow as she continued. “Considering how Starlight blabbed about all our other secrets the last time she was up in Boston, I figured I’d keep this on the down low for now. We’re the only ones who know about it, and I’d prefer we keep it that way until we really need it.”

  “Our own little love nest?”

  “In your dreams, jackass,” she replied pushing past me.

  It made sense, and I wished I’d thought of it. The coven owned numerous properties in the SoHo area of the city – some above ground, some below. All coven holdings were supposed to be on file up in Boston, the headquarters for vampire activity in the Northeastern US. However, it was generally tolerated that covens were allowed to keep a few off the books for safety purposes.

  Unfortunately for us, Starlight – another vamp from my coven – had been brow-beaten by one of the Boston bigwigs into giving up all of our secrets some months back. The only place my group had left in case of emergency was a safe house in Brooklyn we shared with the so-called Howard Beach Coven, a bunch of vampires who heavily disliked me.

  Aside from that, there was also the apartment I shared with Tom and Ed. Needless to say, they weren’t too pleased knowing that in case of emergency, our living room was the designated safe zone for a pack of bloodthirsty monsters. I should have guessed Sally would eventually take steps to rectify that.

  “This must have cost a pretty penny,” I said, taking in the view – including the room.

  “Nothing the coven can’t cover.” She walked over to a full length mirror that hung on one wall. “You would know that if you ever bothered to look at our books.”

  “I keep asking to see them. You’re the one who won’t let me.”

  “Oh yeah, silly me. Forgot all about that. Never mind then. Just know that we’re not exactly hurting for cash.”

  “Even with you at the helm?”

  “Especially with me at the helm.” She continued to check herself out in the mirror. “If you think I’m bad, you should have seen how Jeff ran the place. That asshole spent money like it grew on trees. Hell, he probably kept half the coke dealers in the city employed.”

  That wasn’t surprising. The late unlamented leader of my coven, Jeff, had been the Grand Moff of douchebags, surrounding himself with guys like him and girls that were eye-meltingly gorgeous. Pity for him he wasn’t a very good judge of character. Sally had been one of his minions at the time of my turning. It hadn’t worked out well for him.

  Sadly, my reign over the coven consisted of much less grandeur on my own part. I got to play leader at any and all functions that might end with me getting my ass beaten – all the while keeping my day job as a programmer – while Sally got a black Amex and a corner suite in the office building where she managed the coven’s day to day affairs. She wasn’t shy about flaunting it, either. I had little doubt the hot number she was wearing probably cost more than I got in a paycheck. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “Because otherwise I’d be naked and your reality just doesn’t get that good.” Bitch!

  “Not what I meant, Sally.”

  “Fine. For starters, I have a reputation to uphold. By the way, if you even think of mentioning what we were doing tonight, I’ll stake you with the erection you’re probably sporting right now.”

  How did she know I was...? Still, her threat did imply touching my dick. I briefly considered the possibilities before continuing.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “We were out killing people. Is that better?”

  “Much.” A small smile played out across her lips as she checked her hair. “Getting back to your original question, I want to look nice for the party.”

  “Thank you. Was that so hard to ... wait, what party?”

  “The one at the Loft tonight, obviously.”

  “There’s a party at the Loft?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Why?”

  She turned to face me. “If you have to ask for a reason to hold a party, then you obviously haven’t been invited to that many.”

  “I thought you wanted to talk about ... well, you know.”

  “The Icon, A.K.A. that girl you like – what’s her name – Shannon...”

  “Sheila!”

  “Whatever. Don’t worry, we will. But first we need to unwind.”

  “We?”

  “Yes we, as in all of us. You’re obviously stressed. One doesn’t need eyes or ears to notice that. You’re practically wearing it like cologne. Not a particularly flattering one at that.”

  “You try being all happy and cheery when...”

  “Then there’s me. I have to listen to you complain, which isn’t doing wonders for my mental health. I mean do you see this?�
� She held up a strand of her blonde hair.

  “Um, you’re going grey?”

  She flashed her fangs in anger. “No, shit for brains. Worse ... split ends! Even with Alfonso’s care, I’m practically falling apart here.”

  Alfonso was Sally’s favorite stylist. Before our little jaunt up to Canada, she had taken the liberty of turning his smarmy ass into her undead minion.

  “Yes, you’re obviously suffering,” I quipped, watching her pull out a lipstick tube.

  “Don’t be an ass.” She puckered her lips and applied the glossy red color. “Then there’s the coven, or have you forgotten about them?”

  “They’re kind of hard to forget about.”

  “You could’ve fooled me. You haven’t exactly been leading by example since we got back.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “Yeah, well, while you sit behind your computer jerking off to German porn, I have to deal with them all. Between half of them getting wiped out the last time that little bitch Gan was in town and you pulling a disappearing act, things have been getting out of hand. I caught Dread Stalker trying to organize a hunting party the other day. You know how that would have turned out, right?”

  I nodded. Dread Stalker had been one of Jeff’s favorites. He was a vicious killer wrapped in the form of a long-haired male model. The body count had been steady under Jeff’s rule, keeping the bloodsucker in check. But when I took over and tried to curtail the blatant murdering that went on ... well, you try telling a pride of lions that gazelles are off the menu.

  “I was half tempted to let him go, but knew you’d probably whine about it.”

  “Whine about it? Sorry that I take offense at people being killed like cattle.”

  “Omelets and eggs.” She waved a hand dismissively. “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