Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill) (6 page)

BOOK: Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill)
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Still I couldn’t be too mad at her. Starlight was one of the few members of the coven, outside of present company, that I didn’t want to see meet a bad end.

I considered for a moment whether Sally’s flaunting of her position might actually be on purpose in case of contingencies like this - after all she had proven herself to be surprisingly insightful with regards to the perils of our lifestyle. However, I quickly kicked that thought to the curb. If Sally had some foresight that an attack was coming, why hadn’t she shared that information? No, more than likely she had been enjoying her role as queen bitch and got lucky.

“What should we do once we get there? Assuming, of course, there isn’t a firing squad full of pissed-off sorcerers waiting for us.”

She turned around, catching my eyes wandering. I couldn’t help it. Her thong had been peeking through one of the many tears in her no-longer pristine evening wear. “Well, getting changed into something less drafty is pretty high on my list.”

“Aside from that.” I backed up a step, not wanting to get slugged.

Sally shrugged then continued walking in the oppressive darkness of the sewer tunnel. “Your guess is as good as mine. It’s my first time being directly part of a coven massacre.”

“Directly?”

“Well, I do get around, you know.”

“Okay.” It was better not to ask, but I did anyway. “So what happened in those indirect cases?”

“Let’s just say that things are so much easier when there aren’t any survivors.”

“That’s really not helpful.”

“Sorry. Attacks by outside forces are rare in recent times...although I’m thinking they’re going to get more common. Most vampire
prunings
are internal matters, usually First Coven-related. When they send a message, it tends to be a permanent one.”

“What about when the Khan’s coven got wiped out a few months back? Weren’t there some stragglers?” It pained me to even think of it. The Khan was Ogedai Khan, one of the Draculas and also Gan’s adopted father. He and his forces had been destroyed by the Alma. At the time, his top assassins had been out of country - trying to execute yours truly. As a result, through some twisted logic, the whole thing had been blamed on me.

Sally nodded. “The survivors got absorbed into the surrounding covens, but it was a little different since they were all underneath his rule. I’m hoping that’s not the case here because the nearest coven is our friends over in the HBC.”

Ugh, not a happy thought. HBC stood for Howard Beach Coven, based out of Queens. Whereas Village Coven was - or had been - primarily a vampire frat house, the HBC was a little more hardcore. That wasn’t really the issue. Heck, neither group was really my crowd. What mattered was that they sort of had a grudge against me. Though they were under new leadership these days (thanks to me...well okay, thanks to Sally), they weren’t exactly itching to kiss and make up yet.

“Fuck that shit,” I said.

“We’re in agreement there. I guess we could always go on a massive recruitment drive.”

I gave her a sideways glance.

“You’re going to have to get over that shit, Bill.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” I replied, stepping over a nasty pile of something.

She ignored my attempt at levity, continuing as if I hadn’t spoken. “We can’t have a coven with only three vampires and you know it, especially with a bunch of magical morons hunting us down.”

“So not only do you want to kill people and bring them back as vampires, you want to immediately line them up as cannon fodder, too?”

“Well, if anything happens, at least we wouldn’t have time to get overly attached to them.”

“That’s fucking evil.”

“No, that’s realistic.”

“What about calling Boston and asking their advice?”

“I don’t think we have much choice there,” she said. “The only question is what we’re going to tell them.”

That
was
a good question. I just wished I had a good answer.

* * *

We waited until the start of rush hour to ascend from the sewers, figuring there’d be enough humans present to keep us from being blasted into oblivion. Unfortunately, it also meant we ran into a few people on the way up. We got a few odd glances from our somewhat singed look and slight sewer-scented odor. So much for keeping a low profile.

“Is Starlight even going to be in?” I asked as we reached our floor. “This is typically bedtime.”

“Well there
was
a lot of paperwork,” she replied with a smirk.

“Slave driver.”

“Flatterer.”

I needn’t have worried, though. We had no more than stepped through the door when Starlight came running out to meet us. She wore a conservative business suit and had her long black hair tied back in a bun. Holy shit, Sally even had her dressing the part.

“Bill, Sally, thank goodness! Did you hear what happened?”

“Don’t know, probably don’t care,” Sally pushed past her and headed for the back.

I locked the door behind us. “We have some bad news.”

“I know,” Starlight replied. “The loft is gone.”

Sally stopped in her tracks and turned. “How’d you know?”

“It was on the radio.”

Sally and I exchanged confused glances.

“What did they say?”

“It was weird. When the sun came up, the place was just burned out. None of the neighbors saw or heard anything.”

“I guess they dropped their illusion once the fire was out,” I said to Sally.

“Apparently so.”

“Who dropped what?” Starlight asked. “I thought you were throwing a party last night.”

“We definitely had a blast,” I said.

“I’m not following you.”

“What a surprise,” Sally sniffed. “Our wizard friends decided to crash the party last night...explosively so.”

“Why?” Starlight wasn’t exactly the master strategist of the group, but even she knew better. She turned to me. “They were after you again, weren’t they?”

I wasn’t sure what Sally had told her about recent events, but it probably wasn’t too extensive. Starlight was trustworthy, but that wouldn’t stop an older vampire from getting anything he wanted out of her.

“Yep. They still think I’m gonna bring about the birth of the Icon.”

“Don’t they realize how stupid that is?”

“Heh, yeah, stupid...” I trailed off, hoping to change the subject. “What else did the news say?”

“They said the building must have been empty. They didn’t find any bodies.”

That wasn’t good. When a vampire dies, it typically turns into a pile of ash. In a burnt out building, you’d never notice what could be a veritable vamp graveyard. Deep fried or not, if there were bodies then chances were the vamps attached to them would still be kicking and screaming.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Bill,” Sally said. “If anyone survived, I doubt they would have stuck around to talk to the press.”

She had a point. The second the sun came up, they would have been toast.

“I have a job for you, Star,” she continued.

“I’m on it, boss.”

“Get on the horn. Try every one of our lairs and also any cell phones we have on file. I want to know if anyone else made it out.”

“You got it.”

“Bill, you wait here. I have something to take care of.”

“What?” I demanded. “Whatever it is, there’s no way I’m letting you do it alone.”

“I’m going to take a shower, and believe me, I’d better be alone...unless, that is, you’d like one more casualty to add to the day.”

* * *

As much as I have to admit such a death would be totally worth it, I somehow refrained from peeking. I managed to cobble together a pair of pants and a shirt that fit, if didn’t altogether match, from the hodgepodge of extras in the office - courtesy of past victims. Considering how often I tended to end up on fire, you’d think I’d have left a change of clothes at the office by now. Unfortunately, that and grabbing a few pints of blood from the fridge were the extent of what I could do during daylight hours. It was pointless to try calling Boston before late afternoon.

That just left checking in on my roommates. Sally asked that I be coy about that first one, as we didn’t know the situation back in Brooklyn. She didn’t try to stop me, though. I knew she was at least somewhat fond of Ed - much in the same way a child might be fond of a pet gerbil - and she didn’t entirely hate Tom.

I called home and was pleasantly surprised when Ed answered and not some gruff voice telling me, “We have your human cattle, Freewill.” (Hey, it could happen.) Sensing nothing more than general annoyance in Ed’s voice (he was behind in a project at our mutual place of employment), I made up a plausible excuse involving coven-related business - asking him to pass on the message to Dave, my dungeon master, in case he called wondering why I wasn’t there. It was actually as much truth as lie. Sunday was game day after all.

Dave’s a doctor with lofty ambitions and a shitty bedside manner. He knows I’m a vampire, but unlike Tom or Ed, I keep his knowledge of my undead nature on the down low. Dave’s been experimenting on me, his price for offering me some help a while back. Unfortunately, such things are considered a major no-no in the vampire community. If it were ever found out, we’d be in shit deep enough to fill the Mariana Trench twice over.

Once I made sure my friends were fine, the waiting game began. Sally locked herself in her office, but not before putting Starlight back to work on some bullshit assignment. Rather than sit and wonder whether survivors or assassins would come bursting through the doors, I commandeered a computer and followed Ed’s lead - getting a little coding done in advance of the work week. I had a feeling I’d be busy over the next few days.

Sadly, vampire life doesn’t come with a steady paycheck, at least not when Sally is controlling the purse strings, the cheap bitch. Unlike my movie counterparts like Dracula, Edward, or whatever the fuck character Brad Pitt played in that one movie, I have to hold down a day job to keep a roof over my head. My only solace: in another century or two, the interest on my meager bank savings should start to add up. Yep, it was only a matter of time before that two percent put me on easy street. And no, I don’t believe that bullshit for a second, either.

* * *

Four o’clock rolled around, and we had confirmed three additional survivors by that time. That put the infernal forces under my command at a grand total of four, five if you count Sally.

Alfonso, the aforementioned undead hair stylist, hadn’t been at the party. He called to let us know that one of his clients had been in need of an emergency manicure, requiring his immediate attention. Sally’s squeal of delight at his survival didn’t help my mood. We might be thoroughly fucked, but at least she’d be well-coifed while it happened.

The other two were Dread Stalker and Firebird, two holdovers from the days when Jeff ruled the coven. Dread Stalker was a fucking psycho, no two ways about it. He had been one of Jeff’s favorites - innocent looking on the outside, but one of the coven’s top hunters. In fact, that was the very reason he had survived the previous night. He had arrived late to the party after scouting for some additional
refreshments
.

Firebird hadn’t been nearly as lucky. She crawled into the office mid-afternoon, having pulled her way through the sewers. She’d been present when the fireworks started. It hadn’t been pretty.

She was a smoking hot redhead. When I first met her, she’d existed for seemingly no other reason than to be Jeff’s personal sex toy. Just for the record, though, she looks much hotter when she has skin. Before blacking out, she managed to tell us that she’d been standing near the windows at the back of the building when the loft went up like a Roman candle. She’d been flung through the glass and onto the street below.

After hearing Firebird’s tale, Sally shrugged and walked silently back into her office. Her meaning was clear. Anyone who hadn’t been as
lucky
was most likely dust in the wind by now.

Starlight and I carried Firebird to a back room, and set her up with an IV transfusion of bottled blood. The blood, combined with accelerated healing, would get her back on her feet within a day or so. Hopefully it would leave her looking less gross, too.

After we got Firebird situated, Sally popped her head out of her office.

“It’s probably safe to call Boston now.”

I nodded, gave the others specific orders to stay put, and then locked myself in with her. It was sure to be quite the interesting call.

 

The Conference Call of Cthulhu

 

James didn’t answer his cell phone. Being the newest member of our ruling coven probably kept him busy. We tried the main line for Boston instead and hoped for the best - kind of like getting on a call with tier one tech support in India and naïvely expecting that a solution was forthcoming.

“How may I direct your call?” the bored voice on the other end asked.

“We need to speak with James,” Sally replied.

“James? I don’t know of any James, unless you mean...”

Sally sighed and said, “I would like to speak with James the Wanderer, esteemed member of the First Coven.” She gave me a look of disgust. Sally wasn’t exactly big on ceremony.

“All glory to the First!” the operator replied.

Sally hit mute on the speakerphone. “Ass-kisser.”

I failed to suppress a smirk as she unmuted the phone and the office drone on the other end finished their verbal genuflecting. “The First, praise be to them, are not in the habit of taking calls. I will warn you that...”

“Oh quit the shit,” Sally snapped. “It’s an emergency. It’s about the Freewill.”

“You know the Freewill?”

“Yeah,” I chimed in, “she’s sitting right next to me.”

“Sorry...sir,” came the reply. “Praise be to the one who shall lead our armies in battle...”

“We’re kind of in a rush here,” Sally interrupted.

“Oh...sorry. Hold please.”

Bland elevator music began to play as she muted the speaker again.

“Are they always like that?”

“Yep. Aside from James, I’m pretty sure Boston exclusively employs a legion of boot-lickers.”

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