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

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Christy?”

  “Yep.”

  “Maybe...” I trailed off.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “From the sound of things, Decker isn’t too happy with her right now. They might be on the outs because of her recent change of heart.” She had been as gung ho on my death as Decker when we first met. It was obvious she wasn’t quite as crazy as he, but she was his loyal little coven minion nevertheless. Lately, though, thanks in part to her continuing relationship with Tom, she had started to see I wasn’t quite the big bad wolf Decker had portrayed me as. There was little doubt that had caused friction between them.

  “Be careful there,” Sally warned. “At the end of the day there’re two things against you. One: you’ve been lying to her this past month...”

  “More like omitting the truth, I’d say.”

  “Don’t argue semantics. Two, and most important here, you did fulfill your end of the prophecy. Not only did your birth herald the Icon’s return, but you practically rolled out the red carpet for her.”

  “You think we should make up some bullshit instead?”

  “No. As much as it pains me to say, Christy’s too smart for that. It blows my mind what she sees in your chimp of a roommate. You need to either keep her entirely in the dark or bring her fully into the circle, but...”

  She didn’t need to finish. If Christy’s loyalty to Decker won out in the end, it would be even worse than if we had spilled our guts on the phone. They’d know everything, and we’d be exposed as having tried to cover it up. Might as well buy a hacksaw and cut off my own head in that case.

  Once we had finished our somewhat incomplete assessment of the situation, Sally and I discussed possible courses of action.

  Over the previous day, I had begun considering Mission Impossible-esque type scenarios. Sheila and I would somehow defeat the forces stacked against us ... perhaps even saving the world in the process. What? I didn’t say they were realistic scenarios. Hell, I could barely fill in my yearly goals at work – a master military strategist I was not. To say that put me at a slight disadvantage against Alexander the Great was like comparing a warm summer breeze with a tornado. At the end of it all, I had to admit that most of my plans involved getting nearly impossibly lucky.

  Fortunately for my own ineptitude, Sally believed in making her own luck.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “...and if everything works out just as I said, the Sasquatches will be hunted down by the government, Sheila will be alive, and Alexander will be so busy dealing with the ...”

  I stopped relaying my plan of action as Sally sat down and put her face in her hands.

  “What?”

  “Give me a moment. I have a stupidity headache.”

  “I suppose you have a better idea.”

  “Not only better, but one that actually has a chance in hell of working.”

  “Enlighten me please, Rommel.”

  Sally fixed her eyes on me, giving me her best condescending stare. “It’s very simple. We’re going to find her and explain the situation.”

  “Just like that, eh?”

  She flashed her fangs. “We’re vampires. We’ll convince her.”

  “Then?”

  “Then we’ll give her the cliff notes version to bring her up to speed. We’ll help pack her bags, steal a car, buy her a plane ticket, or whatever the fuck. Bottom line is she gets the hell out of the city and keeps running.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It’s a start. With any luck, she’ll be out of New York before the day is through. We can stonewall Colin’s people for as long as it takes. We might even get lucky and find ourselves a nice opportunity to take Decker out of the equation.”

  “And Sheila?”

  “She becomes a nomad. Doesn’t stay in any one place for too long. If she keeps moving, maybe she’ll stay alive.”

  “How the hell is she supposed to live?”

  “She has that company she owns. She can probably grab some cash from that.”

  “And if it’s not enough?”

  “Then we’ll bankroll her,” she said flatly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cooked the books a little.”

  My eyes opened wide. It wasn’t so much the plan. It was simple enough that it might even work. But the fact that Sally was willing to stick her neck out, even using coven funds to do so – when I could barely get cab fare out of her most days – was utterly amazing to me. It was good ... except for one little detail.

  “She’ll be all alone out there. Alone against a world of monsters. I need to go with her.”

  That earned me a super slow eye-roll. “Nice sentiment, Romeo. Just a few problems with your plan.”

  “I know we’re not that close, but I need to...”

  “You can’t even touch her, at least not without it looking like someone just shot off a flare gun in the room. Your Freewill abilities might save you from getting cooked, but just think about how subtle that won’t be. Hell, you trip on the sidewalk and bump into her ... bam, suddenly you’ll make the local papers at the very least.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She looked me in the eye and dropped the attitude. “I’m serious here, Bill, it won’t work. If there are other vamps in the area, they’ll be able to sniff you out. We know what you look like. Your face would be plastered on the wall of every coven from here to Indochina. Then there’re the mages. You would lead them right to her. Remember how they found you?”

  “But Decker said...”

  “Decker is full of shit! They know the Icon is alive, that’s all. Something about her abilities frigs up their magic. They can’t home in on her like a guided missile.”

  “But they can with me.”

  “You’ll lead them right to her. You’re powerful ... or you will be if you ever learn to control your shit.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “But even the two of you combined can’t take on the world. There’s also an additional complication to your plan.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry to have to burst your little puppy-love bubble, but you don’t even know if she’s gonna want you around. Didn’t you say she seemed kind of freaked after she blasted you across the street?”

  “That would’ve freaked out anyone,” I replied, but there was no real conviction in my voice. What I hadn’t told Sally was the last thing Sheila had said before I took off running.

  “What are you?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I decided to sort out my feelings later. As long as Sheila was alive, I could take some comfort in that. Even if she walked out of my life hating me, it was a shitload better than watching her get blasted into nothing more than a smoking crater.

  “In any case, we need to find her first,” Sally rightly pointed out.

  When all else fails, there’s always the obvious. “I guess we could try calling her.”

  I wasn’t ashamed to admit (well, okay, I wasn’t too ashamed) that I knew a little bit about Sheila. You know, basic things that you pick up when you work alongside someone for a while: where she lived, her phone number, her favorite perfume, what she liked to eat, her favorite color ... that kind of stuff. Nothing creepy about any of that, right?

  Sally shrugged and handed me the phone. “Dial away.”

  “You do realize I’m about to call a girl at three AM to tell her that vampires and wizards are hunting her down, right?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” she replied. “If she answers, put her on speaker. I want to hear this.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Not even if we somehow live through this mess.”

  In my previous life of being, well, alive, I had never dared to call her. Hell, since being turned into one of the undead I hadn’t tried either. All of our interactions had been through work, at least until she’d quit. Somehow, I always envisioned our first phone call being a little different than this. I sighed and beg
an to dial.

  “Hold on, Sherlock,” Sally said, swatting my hand away from the receiver. “Almost forgot. Not that one.”

  “What do you mean? You just gave me the...”

  “Here,” she replied, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a box. She tossed it across the desk to me. It was a prepaid cell phone, still sealed. “Use this one instead.”

  “Paranoid?”

  “Shouldn’t I be? Don’t think for a moment that Colin trusts us.”

  “I didn’t, but why the change of heart? I thought you weren’t worried about phone taps.”

  “When did I ever say that?”

  “Back when the Khan’s assassins were hunting us.”

  “Whole different story then. We’re not dealing with a bunch of heavily-armed yak herders this time around. The Draculas may be old-school, but the Boston office is firmly in the twenty-first century. Best to assume they have access to state of the art tech. Even if not, they manage all our agreements with the local law enforcement. If they need to, they can pull strings.”

  Dammit! I had forgotten about that part. Vampires weren’t able to exist entirely in the shadows. Vamps are strong and fast, but they’re no smarter than they were in life. There were plenty of dumbasses within the undead ranks. Thus it was necessary to grease the wheels, so to speak. Treaties and agreements existed that allowed us to go about our bloody business and stay out of the limelight. In return, we agreed to concessions that basically kept us from turning human civilization into a bloodbath.

  Unfortunately, I had a feeling such contracts were not going to be up for renewal. Alexander had grand designs. Not only did he plan on winning our war against the Bigfeet, but his vision also extended to remaking the world in our own image ... or more likely, his own image. Over two thousand years ago, he had set out to conquer the Earth. Now, he was prepared to finish the job.

  I pried open the box – damn plastic packaging. Even with vampire strength they’re a bitch. “So we’re going all Bourne Identity, then?”

  “For some things, yes. Best not to be stupid.”

  I couldn’t disagree on that. Too much of what had transpired had occurred because I’d gone into things acting like a clueless idiot. I’d have to try to temper that a bit in the coming days.

  “It’s going to look a little funny calling her up from an unlisted number.”

  “It’s going to look a little funny regardless, calling her up at this hour and telling her to pack her bags before the boogeyman gets there.”

  “Touché.” I began dialing.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Well?”

  “No answer.”

  “Are you sure you have the right number?”

  “Hell yeah. I have it memorized.”

  “You’ve used it before?”

  “Well, no.”

  “I’d tell you how pathetic that is, but I’m sure you already know. Hang up and dial it again.”

  “Why?”

  “If it keeps ringing, she might wake up and answer it.”

  “I can just leave a voicemail.”

  “And say what?”

  “...I’ll dial her again.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Directory assistance says it’s the right number. She’s just not answering.”

  “Maybe she’s not home.”

  “Where would she be at this hour?”

  Sally sighed. “Oh I don’t know. It’s only the weekend and she’s a single semi-attractive female.”

  I bared my fangs at her for the dig, but she didn’t even flinch. It was sad. I could intimidate strangers by sheer virtue of being the Freewill, but the people closest to me ... nada.

  “Are you sure she wasn’t seeing someone else?”

  “Positive ... mostly.”

  “There’s just one problem with that.”

  “What?”

  “One, you don’t have a clue about this girl other than the goo-goo eyes you make whenever you talk about her, and two, your data is at least thirty days old. Sorry, that was more than one problem, wasn’t it?”

  “It’s only been a month.”

  “You do realize that some people meet, get engaged, and are married in that time frame, right?”

  “They do?” Horrific images of Sheila settling down with some corporate schlub, who wasn’t me, and raising two point five kids in the suburbs suddenly raced through my mind.

  “Duh! You really have no clue how this dating thing works, do you? Most of us don’t clock our social lives against the geologic time table.”

  “But ... we’re meant to be together.”

  “Only if by be together you mean kill each other. Let’s not forget...”

  “Fuck the prophecies!”

  “Probably a good attitude to take. Get your coat.”

  “Where...”

  “To her place, obviously. Do you think the witches are going to be fucking around here?”

  “Well...”

  “Fine, bad example. What about Boston? They have a lot of shit on their plate. They’re gonna want this bagged and tagged quickly.”

  I turned a shade paler at her words. That was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. “Let’s go.”

  “Do you know where she lives? Wait, stupid question, never mind.”

  Gate Crashers

  Fortunately, Sheila didn’t live too far away. Considering the time, we decided it made sense to go by foot. The trains ran less frequently at that hour, and there would also be a lot of fucking weirdos on them. The streets were fairly empty in the more residential blocks. That allowed us to put our vampiric speed to good use. Sticking to the shadows, we maintained a pace that would have put even a world class sprinter to shame. Within minutes we were at the stoop of Sheila’s building.

  I paused and looked around. This was where it had happened. Though any evidence was long gone, I knew exactly where I had been standing when the best moment of my life had morphed into the worst in a white hot sheet of magical flame.

  “What is it?”

  “This is where I was blown across the street.”

  “Guys are way too preoccupied with getting blown.” I glared at her. “Oh lighten up, Bill. You’re depressing me.”

  “Let’s focus on why we’re here.”

  “Gladly. The sooner we can say bon voyage, the better. Decker and Colin can jerk each other off while they sweep the city, and we can get on with life.”

  “You think Decker will give up?”

  “No. But I think there will be ample opportunity to kill his ass.”

  “Not quite my favorite type of happy ending, but I wouldn’t argue against it.”

  “Thought not,” she replied with a smirk, starting up the stairs.

  “So, what do we do?”

  “We get in, obviously.”

  “Uh yeah ... heh, not quite how I envisioned my first visit to her apartment.”

  “I’d offer to give you some alone time, but I left the asbestos condoms in my other dress.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. At this rate, I’d be standing there bantering with Sally on the front stoop until the sun came up. Wouldn’t that be an inglorious end to things? At the very least, though, it would give the prophets of the supernatural world a gigantic kick to the balls. That alone almost made it worth it ... almost.

  I pushed past Sally and pressed the bell for Sheila’s apartment.

  “Sure that’s hers?”

  “Yep. Apartment Two-B.”

  “There’s no name on it.”

  “Trust me on this.”

  “It’s kind of cute that you know so much about her, in a creepy restraining order sort of way.”

  “I’m sure you’d know all about those.”

  “Only how to ignore them. How long are you going to press that thing anyway? You could have woken up a narcoleptic by now.”

  “She might be a deep sleeper.”

  “Or, as I said, she might not be here.”

  “Not helping.”

  “Enjo
ying a nice evening out...”

  “Sally,” I warned.

  “...playing a game of hide the sausage with a guy who won’t spontaneously combust next to her...”

  “Maybe one of her neighbors will let us in.” I tried desperately to focus, despite an urgent need to clock her.

  “Oh get out of the way.” She grabbed the door handle and turned, twisting until the lock snapped. “Keys are for pussies.”

  “You’re lucky there isn’t a doorman,” I whispered, following her in.

  “No, Bill. A doorman is lucky he’s not here.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Thankfully, the halls were empty. Nobody on the first floor appeared to have heard us breaking and entering. Sally might be old enough to be officially off the grid, but I was still a hardworking, tax paying citizen as far as New York City was concerned. Getting arrested for burglary wasn’t high on my list.

  We walked up to the second floor, still unseen. Finally I stopped in front of Sheila’s door.

  “This is it. Should we knock?”

  “We already tried that route. I’m more for the direct approach.”

  “What if we scare her?”

  “Scare her? She can kill vampires with a touch. I think it’s the other way around.”

  “Good point.”

  “Be careful in there, though. It’s gonna be close quarters and she’s liable to not be entirely pleased with unannounced guests.”

  “Sheila won’t hurt us.”

  “Purposefully, maybe,” Sally pointed out. “Just remember, even a handshake from her is gonna be like touching a live power line.”

  I nodded, and she stepped forward, grasped the knob and began to apply pressure. Before she could break the lock, though, wisps of smoke poured from between her fingers. A scant second later, she started to scream.

  Thinking quickly, I covered her mouth with my hand to stifle the cry rushing out. I got lucky in that one moment, but less lucky in the next as she bit down on my hand. I gritted my own teeth as her fangs sunk into the meat of my palm. Motherfucker!

  She yanked her hand back from the doorknob and I did the same with mine from her mouth. That last one was for both our benefit. Had Sally swallowed my blood, she would have been reduced to a quivering ball of puke. The plus to me was ... well, she wasn’t biting my fucking hand anymore. My God, what a mess things had become and we hadn’t even gotten into the apartment yet.