The Tome of Bill (Book 5): Goddamned Freaky Monsters

by Rick Gualtieri

  My friends opened their mouths to protest, but James held up a hand. “I am forced to concur. The situation is potentially volatile and I cannot guarantee your safety while...”

  “Wait,” Ed interrupted. “We’ve already established that I’m somehow not quite human.” Tom tried to comment, but Ed cut him off. “Say it and I’ll cock-punch you into next week.” Once he was sure Tom wasn’t going to reply with something asinine, he continued. “You don’t need to worry about anyone trying to snack on me. Not to mention, I really don’t want that asshole sneaking up behind me when I’m alone, just in case everyone here is wrong about Boston.”

  “He’s got a point, James,” I said. “Worst case is he just stands around being useless.”

  “Thanks, Bill.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “He can be bait,” Sally added.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. If this asshole is really after you, then there’s a chance we can use you to draw him out.”

  Ed raised an eyebrow, to which she replied with a saucy little smile. Sally was one of the few women I knew who considered flirting to be more fun when it was potentially lethal.

  To my surprise, Calibra agreed. “There is logic in your words. Very well...”

  Tom raised his hand to high five me.

  “This human may come with us.”

  Tom’s hand paused in midair. “What about me?”

  “Unless you have a similar purpose, then I expressly forbid it.”

  Tom turned to James, but there was no dissent to be found there.

  “I am truly sorry, but Boston is under the Prefect’s jurisdiction. I have already ignored enough protocol for one day. Her ruling stands.” As if to accentuate that the matter was closed, he turned away and pulled his phone out again.

  Sally walked out of the room, probably to grab whatever it was she wanted. I had little doubt, though, that it was also partially to escape the whining that was sure to follow.

  “Bill, you need...”

  “No,” I said, feeling like a complete dick. “Ed’s a part of this, but that thing doesn’t know about you.”

  “Not cool, man.”

  “I know, but it’s for the best. You have a girlfriend, a kid on the way. It’s a stupid risk. Besides, if anything happened to you...well, I sure as shit don’t want another coven of witches out for my blood.”

  Tom visibly deflated, but offered no argument against my words. I put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “We need someone to guard the homestead. Can’t have any pterodactyls breaking in and stealing our shit, can we?”

  Tom didn’t look pleased, but he threw me back a small grin in return. “Says the twat-waffle who hasn’t paid rent in three months.”

  * * *

  Ed and I walked Tom down to the front door and opened it just enough to see his ride waiting outside. We had called for car service and, amazingly, they had responded. The past day had been weird, but apparently not weird enough to make people risk giving up a paycheck. With the sun up, the chances of him getting home safely were hopefully better than they would be otherwise, even if he needed to take the long route.

  We said a few words, and I left off with the warning that if things got too freaky, he and Christy needed to get themselves gone. Thankfully, I wasn’t too worried about that part. Pregnant or not, having a girlfriend who could apparate basically anywhere she wanted to go was handy. I wouldn’t mind getting me one of those someday.

  That thought brought Sheila to mind. Rather than let myself get depressed about it, though, I took some comfort. I’d made a vow to do whatever I could to take her place against the coming darkness. Sure, my current course of action would sorta help the vampire cause, but I considered Chuck to be the greater evil - cutting a swath of destruction through the office and God knows what else. That fucker was a loose cannon, one that needed to be put down. After that, I could figure out how to keep the world from sliding even further into the pit of crap it currently dangled over.

  Our goodbyes exchanged, Ed and I closed the door behind us. James and Calibra waited in the living room in deep discussion - probably going over items of great importance to the vampire world that a low level doofus like me wouldn’t appreciate. After a few moments, Sally stepped out to join them, a large duffle bag in hand.

  “Let me guess: some trashy dresses, a thong, and a few pairs of six-inch heels that you can’t live without?”

  “A girl has to have her priorities,” she replied, reaching into the bag and withdrawing a massive handgun identical to the one she’d kept at the office. “You lost Mark, but fortunately for me, he has a twin brother.”

  “You named your gun Mark?”

  “Yep. Got a problem with that?”

  I was tempted to comment, but Ed spoke up first. “I don’t suppose you have something in there for me?”

  Sally grinned devilishly and looked to have a reply, but thankfully, James spared us any disturbing double entendres. “When we get to Boston, you may feel free to peruse our arsenal. I have little doubt you’ll find something there to your liking.”

  That seemed to mollify my roommate, although he did look a little crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to finish his game of flirtation pong. That gave me pause to wonder if Sally really understood what he could do. If not, then the next time she tried to give him a little love bite was gonna be a doozy.

  Such things could wait, though. As it looked like we were all ready to head out, I addressed the ranking vamps in the room. “I guess that’s it. I hope your car has a big back seat and tinted windows.”

  James slyly smiled back. “I believe I can do one better.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, although we shall need to journey to One Police Plaza first.”

  “Police escort?” Ed asked.

  “Something of the sort.”

  That was interesting, but not entirely surprising. The upper echelons of human authority knew of our existence. Certain wheels were kept well-greased, ensuring eyes were properly turned away from the worst of our activities. I had a feeling that whole deal would come crumbling down soon enough, but apparently things hadn’t yet escalated that far.

  “Sure they’re going to be able to spare anyone?” I asked. “I can still hear sirens out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if martial law was declared by tonight.”

  “Nor would I,” he replied. “Do not fret. They are merely providing us with the most efficient waypoint back - a means to an end.”

  Why didn’t that instill much confidence in me? It probably had to do with the fact that for vamps, the shortest distance between points A and B was often through whatever warm bodies stood in the way.

  There was also Sally to consider, currently carrying a gun big enough to set off metal detectors a block away.

  I was sure James had some plan, but I still couldn’t help but wonder how we were going to do this without reenacting a scene from The Matrix.

  * * *

  Another problem with our plan was the time of day. It was partly cloudy out, which meant enough sunshine to ensure things wouldn’t be easy on us vamps. We could take the tunnels most of the way, but there was a vast difference between surfacing in the basement of a coven property and doing so in a building full of armed cops - ones who were likely to be a bit on edge from the events of the past twenty-four hours.

  Thankfully, Sally kept the safe house stocked for nearly all contingencies - including trips outside. That meant hooded jackets and a couple of industrial-sized tubes of high SPF sunscreen.

  Ironically enough, this left most of us looking like exactly the sort who would get stopped right at the door of a police station.

  I helpfully pointed this out, but seemed to be the only one overly concerned. James was anxious to get a move on, while Sally was busy trying not to laugh at Calibra’s discomfort with the bright pink hoodie she’d been given to wear. So glad to see everyone had their priorities in order.

  One quick jaunt through the sew
ers later found us a few short blocks away from our destination - far enough so as not to arouse suspicion when we surfaced. Shaded by the tall buildings on either side of the street, it was smooth sailing from there out.

  Or maybe not.

  The place was mobbed with a crowd spanning out nearly a block in every direction. I couldn’t really blame them. New Yorkers were a tough bunch, but the shit that’d been happening was enough to unnerve anyone.

  The people were frightened and angry. Worst of all, it looked like a lot of the cops that should have been out doing stuff to help the situation were stuck here in crowd control - barely keeping the nervous mob from swarming the doors.

  There was no fucking way we were getting through this shit.

  Or so I thought.

  James led the way, subtly using his enhanced strength to push through the crowd, allowing us to follow, but not hurting anyone or drawing undue attention to us.

  As we approached one of the cops on duty, I had a moment to muse that, in addition to being greasy and dressed like creeps, we now smelled like an unholy mix of aloe and garbage.

  “There’s no fucking way we’re not getting tossed in the drunk tank,” I whispered to Ed as we got near.

  “Who’s this we you’re talking about? Shit goes down and I’ll just claim you fuckers kidnapped me.”

  “At least victim is a step up from bait.”

  “Good point.”

  Our banter petered out as James waved down the officer. I held my breath to see what would happen next. There was something about being at a police station that suggested silence would be the best course of action - as if just our proximity to it would cause every person in uniform to point their fingers and cry, “Guilty!”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Sally said as she stepped near us. “Will you two stand up straight? You both look like you’re about to turn yourselves in.”

  “Well excuse me,” I replied. “I’m sure when you’ve been booked for soliciting Johns enough times this becomes old hat. Some of us, though, have a healthy respect for the law.”

  She cocked her fist back as if to clock me one, but stopped when she saw my grin - no doubt realizing that committing assault right in front of Cop Central was a dumb move, even for a vampire.

  James and Calibra spoke to the officer while ignoring our antics. Their body language suggested authority at odds with their dress. I tensed as the eyes of the other cops close by narrowed on them, ready to hit the deck if lead or body parts started flying. That didn’t happen, though.

  Instead, the tiniest of tremors passed through me, almost imperceptible - as if a subway had passed by far beneath. Ed appeared not to have noticed, but Sally’s eyes met mine.

  “Was that...”

  “I’m not sure,” she replied, “but I think that may have been the subtlest human compulsion I’ve ever seen.”

  “I didn’t even catch what he said.”

  “I know. I guess that’s why he’s one of the Draculas and we’re not.”

  “Freaky.”

  “Kinda hot, too.” She noticed my sidelong glance. “What? It is.”

  I was about to comment, but Calibra turned and waved us on.

  To my surprise, we were escorted past the crowd, their angry taunts momentarily directed at us. They probably wondered why we were such VIPs.

  We were led through the front doors and, amazingly enough, ushered past any security checkpoints that would have otherwise revealed some of us were packing some serious heat. James directed us to the main desk, where we were all handed visitor passes.

  “Have a good day, sir,” the clerk said respectfully.

  That caught me by surprise. My run-ins with the police during my college days were more likely to end in punk than sir. I looked down at my pass and saw why. A fake name stared back, identifying me as a fed. Hot damn.

  As James led us toward a bank of elevators, I had to ask, “NSA?”

  “Yes. I find they are the organization least likely to be met with any silly territorial posturing.”

  “You do realize that impersonating a federal agent is a pretty major crime.”

  “Of course. Just as I realize that with the onset of hostilities, the majority of said agencies will most likely be rendered moot in the coming months.”

  “Oh.”

  An elevator opened and a white-haired, uniformed man stepped out. I wasn’t entirely up on my rank insignias, but I was pretty sure he was a captain. He stepped up to James, giving me momentary pause to consider that perhaps the jig was up.

  “Your ride’s waiting for you.”

  Or maybe not.

  “Excellent,” James replied. “Please lead the way.”

  We stepped into the elevator. I expected us to head down, perhaps to a subbasement garage. To my surprise, though, we ascended.

  “Anything you can tell me about all the shit going on?” the captain asked.

  He must’ve seen my eyes pop open wide, because he said, “Yeah, I know all about bloodsuckers.”

  “That’s such a crude term,” James said conversationally.

  “I was referring to your friends in high places. Goddamned politicians.”

  “On that we can agree.”

  A few minutes later, we were escorted out onto the roof. The daylight momentarily blinded me, but I could plainly hear the sound of rotors engaging.

  “Not the least conspicuous bird we’ve ever had here,” the cop said.

  James stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder amicably. “I dare say, Captain Valente, the days of subtlety may very well be over. Please take care of yourself.”

  I looked past them and took in our ride for the first time. Yeah, subtle definitely wasn’t the right word. A sleek chopper awaited us - black with no markings. Fuck me if it didn’t look like the helicopter from that old show Airwolf...complete with the weaponry to back it up.

  “So what do you think?” James asked, turning back toward me.

  “What do I think?” I repeated, grinning. “I think I’m calling shotgun.”

  A Slight Detour

  James overruled me, thus showing that - amongst myriad other offenses - the Draculas didn’t respect the universal rules for calling dibs. Oh well, at least Ed didn’t get the hot seat either - albeit he didn’t exactly appear to be suffering with his consolation prize: a seat next to Sally.

  Calibra sat up front next to the pilot, who was no doubt also a vampire, judging by his full body jumpsuit, including helmet. The rest of us took the rear compartment, which was far more comfortable than the aggressive exterior of the chopper suggested.

  The windows were heavily tinted, allowing us to ditch some of our coverings once the doors were shut. That was at least a minor plus, albeit we all still smelled like the losers in a Coppertone battle royale.

  Even so, it was a lot better than my last trip in a copter - when Alex’s men flew me back home from the Woods of Mourning. Sally and I had sat in uncomfortable silence then, afraid to say much. Now, despite the fact that we were potentially flying into - as opposed to away from - the frying pan, I found the company much more agreeable.

  “This sure as hell beats driving,” Ed said.

  “Especially in your car.”

  “I got rid of that piece of shit.”

  “I meant your new one,” I replied, ducking out of his reach.

  “This is okay, I guess,” Sally commented. “Not quite one of our chartered jets, though.”

  “True enough,” James replied. “There’s no champagne service, but at least it allows us to bypass check-in.”

  “Speaking of which,” I asked, “how long to Boston?”

  “We should be touching down in roughly an hour and a half.”

  That definitely kicked the shit out of driving, especially since a good chunk of the trip usually entailed rotting in traffic. Sure, there were rest stops, but the daylight ensured I would be a veritable prisoner in the car. That wasn’t particularly cool when one was in need to take an epic p
iss. Also, last time we made the trip, Tom fucked up my order for lunch - purposely, too. The dickhead knows I don’t like onions on my burger.

  Sadly, burgers weren’t on the menu for us that day. However, a stopover most certainly was - I just didn’t know it yet.

  * * *

  James spent the next twenty minutes compelling Sally...sadly, not for anything fun. As the potential weak link in our group - which she helpfully planted a heel into my shin upon my pointing out - she sat there as James attempted to fortify her own mental barriers against compulsion. That seemed like one motherfucker of a smart idea to me, considering how easily Chuck had snared Starlight and Firebird. James wasn’t entirely sure of the other vamp’s age or power, but he was confident in his own abilities to temporarily erect enough walls in her mind to fend off anything but a direct attack.

  His compulsions couldn’t affect me, but they still reverberated in my skull - especially in those close quarters. It wasn’t long before a headache set in.

  I tried to tune him out by attempting to figure out how long the traffic jam below was - no doubt made up of those trying to flee the craziness going on in the city. I stopped doing so after a while, though, and just estimated it to be really fucking long. The intermittent police lights likely made it worse. The officers were probably dealing with the accidents that tended to occur whenever one introduced a little bit of panic to the unwashed masses. By the look of things, if we’d traveled by car, our ETA to Boston would be roughly sometime next month.

  After finishing his compulsion reinforcements, James sat back and appeared to retreat into his thoughts. That left Sally, Ed and me to banter about mostly meaningless bullshit - with a lot of pathetic flirting on Ed’s part thrown in to add a little nausea to the mix.

  Finally, about forty-five minutes into the trip, I grew tired of it and figured I’d see what the skinny was on our new Prefect - especially since she was up front with the pilot and out of earshot...hopefully. “So, tell me about this Calibra chick.”

  “Calibra chick?” James repeated as he raised an eyebrow.

  “You know what I mean. How’d she get Colin’s job?”