Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill) (8 page)

Sally and I locked eyes. Oh crap. She shook her head. Her meaning was clear...shut the fuck up. I didn’t need to be told twice. Jesus Christ, what a fucking minefield.

“I’m afraid there are too many questions on the table,” James said. “The loss of one coven is of little consequence to the First’s plans, no offense intended. However, considering your role in the coming conflict...”

“Oh fuck,” I muttered under my breath, forgetting James’s hearing was supernaturally acute.

“In this, sadly, I have no say. Lord Alexander was quite adamant on this point. Your involvement raises this incident’s priority.”

“Go me,” I sighed as Sally kicked me from under the table.

“Based on what we know, or more precisely what we don’t, I see only one course of action...”

That didn’t sound promising. Tom was definitely not going to be pleased if I’d put a giant crosshairs on his girlfriend.”

“...we need to set up a conference call with the Magi.”

“What?!”

Whatever the hell had happened to nuking it from orbit?

A friendly chat with the assholes who’d nearly vaporized me...go figure. I couldn’t wait to see how that was gonna turn out. If I was a betting man, though, I’d venture to guess it wouldn’t be in my favor.

Without Bad Luck, I’d have No Luck at All

“A conference call?”

“Of course,” James replied. “What did you expect me to say?”

“Something with a bit more killing, for starters,” Sally said.

James chuckled. “Sally, my dear, this isn’t the thirteenth century. We don’t take up arms for the slightest offenses, especially at this moment. We’ll soon have our hands full enough of enemies. I’d prefer we not add to their number.”

I bristled at the slightly offensive remark. I don’t consider myself hot shit or anything, but I’m not jaded enough to shrug off attempts on my life as no big deal.

Sally raised her hands and shrugged. There wasn’t much we could do to protest. By bringing Boston into this mess, we had to accept their judgment on the matter. Regardless, neither of us was quite expecting a conference bridge with the folks who, in all likelihood, just succeeded in sending about a dozen vampires screaming into the great beyond.

Talking to those psychos was not a good thing at any time, but right now, it had potential to be epically disastrous. Harry Decker and his fun bunch claimed to have known about my birth through their scrying or whatever the fuck they did. Assuming they weren’t full of shit, I wasn’t about to rule out their ability to do the same for the Icon. Considering they somehow thought that Sheila would be the death of them - which was hard to wrap my brain around since she wasn’t a killer - there was little doubt they’d be keeping their eyes open for her arrival.

This was shaping up to be the worst conference call of my life, even worse than that time I accidentally clogged the school toilet back in first grade with my Boba Fett figure (I was pretending it was the Sarlaac pit).

Talk about a shitty situation.

* * *

Once more, Sally and I played the waiting game, as there were diplomatic channels to be opened on Boston’s end. If there was an upside, it was that Colin was again forced to act as James’s toady. No matter how far up in the vampire hierarchy he got, he was still just someone else’s bitch. That alone was worth a fraction of a smile.

The evening stretched into the wee hours of the night. Despite my orders, Dread Stalker left at some point...probably to go and commit some heinous act or another. Hopefully he ran into some witches in a dark alley. It was a horrible thought, but fuck it - I’m not applying for sainthood anytime soon. If the asshole wanted to get himself killed, that was his problem. Starlight was kept busy with some more of Sally’s bullshit paperwork. Firebird continued resting, albeit probably not comfortably. She still looked like a charbroiled chicken, but the blood transfusions appeared to be having some effect. She looked a little less
crispy
in places.

Sally and Alfonzo disappeared into her office for a while. I couldn’t even amuse myself with the fantasy that he was railing her behind closed doors. I probably had far more of a chance with him than she did. No, she was probably doing something douchey like getting her hair colored. It would figure. We almost got our asses turned into Baked Alaska, and her biggest concern was whether her roots were showing.

At last, her door opened. Alfonzo exited and indicated that Sally wanted me back in her office. I was supposed to be the one in charge.
I
should be summoning
her
into my office (if I had one).

Oh, who was I kidding? I would have gladly handed her the keys to the castle. Hell, I would have dropped to one knee and proclaimed her Queen Shit if I could’ve turned back the clock a year and gone down a different path. Even two months back would be enough. I could have told Sheila, “Sorry, babe, but I just don’t think you’ve got it in you to do any better.” Sure, it would have completely fucked up my chances with her, but it would have been far more preferable compared to what lay ahead for both of us. My only advantage was knowing how much shit I was in. She would be blindsided.

I stopped midway into Sally’s office. No, I couldn’t let that happen. The call’s outcome couldn’t be predicted, but I had a very good idea what my next course of action was going to be.

* * *

“Greetings, Freewill,” a voice on the line intoned.

“Hey, Harry,” I replied flippantly. “Fuck up the launch of Farm Blitz yet?” Harry Decker was yet another on my ever-growing list of arch-enemies. He also, not coincidentally, happened to be the senior vice-president of marketing at my workplace, Hopskotchgames.

“Hardly. In fact, I expect a nice bonus from that one. Perhaps I’ll buy myself a new Bentley.”

“Only douchebags drive Bentleys,” I spat. It wasn’t much of a comeback, but rubbing my face in the fact that he pretty much wrote his own paychecks just poured salt in the wound.

“I’m sure your work relationship is truly fascinating,” James interrupted, “but we have far more serious business to discuss.”

“Of course, vampire,” Decker replied.

“Esteemed Magi,” Colin said. “We welcome you to this conclave under protection of truce...”

Truce? What the fuck?

“Will you be attending alone, or shall we extend the invitation to others of your circle?”

“I speak for my coven,” Decker replied arrogantly. What a douche.

“Very well, honored guest.” Colin’s tone took on a sour note. “Freewill, are you ready?”

“How come Gandalf the Gay gets an esteemed and honored greeting?”

“Because he’s not you.”

I heard Decker chuckle. Make that double douches.

“Colin, please,” James said, his tone neutral but the warning fairly evident.

“My apologies, Wanderer.”

James ignored his sniveling and got down to business. As he began to speak, I locked eyes with Sally. Her look mirrored my own. She had no idea how this was going to play out either.

“Mr. Decker, the Magi and the vampire nation have been on civil terms these past few centuries.”

“Indeed,” he replied. “My people have no quarrel with yours...typically.”

“Yes, we are aware of your issue with the Freewill. However, we consider that to be a personal matter.”

I had meant to be a fly on the wall, but my mouth had other plans. “It’s fucking personal, alright.”

Sally rolled her eyes - yeah, saw that one coming a mile away.

“I am here on good faith, Wanderer,” Decker said. “Kindly restrain your dog.”

“Dog? Fuck you, you...”

“That will be enough, Dr. Death.” I knew what James was capable of. Likewise I knew the influence he now wielded as one of the thirteen most powerful vampires on the planet. All of that considered, I shut my mouth quickly, obeying...like a dog. Motherfucker!

“My apologies,” James said.

Sally immediately reached over and hit the mute button. “Curse out the asshole this way if it makes you feel better.”

“Not as much fun if he can’t hear it, but good idea anyway.”

“I’m full of them.”

“You’re full of something all right.”

“...as you can see, the situation is somewhat beyond normal. Considering the circumstances, I’m forced to investigate potential causes.” Oh crap, what had James been saying? From the sound of things, he was just summing things up for Decker. Hopefully there hadn’t been any questions in there for me. “Do you have anything to add, Dr. Death?”

Yep, I deserved that one.

“Err...no, I think that about covers it.” I hoped I didn’t just hand Decker a “get out of blowing me up free” card.

Silence resonated on the line for several seconds. “Despite our past vendetta against the Freewill,” Decker said at last, “my coven did not attempt to assassinate him this evening, though it would have been well within our power.”

I flipped the finger at the phone. It only made me feel slightly better.

“That is a relief to hear,” James replied.

“Hold on,” I cried, unmuting the phone. “That’s it? He says he didn’t blow up the loft and you just take him at his word?”

“Dr. Death...”

“Perhaps it would behoove you to listen, you idiotic abomination,” Decker explained. “I didn’t say we had nothing to do with leveling that murderous hive of filth. I simply replied to the question at hand...we were not trying to kill you.”

There was silence from all parties on the line. I wasn’t sure what Decker was trying to say other than to announce he had just gotten off the train at Crazy Town.

Sally’s mouth opened, but I quickly waved her off. Whatever had been on the tip of her tongue was doubtlessly less than diplomatic. If anything, she probably liked being flash-fried even less than I did.

Finally James spoke again, his tone stern. “I’m not sure I follow, Mr. Decker. Please explain yourself.”

“I need explain nothing. I am a dead man walking. We all are. My fate, as that of all the magical covens, is at hand. The future cannot be rewritten, but I can make sure that those who have had a hand in it shall suffer.”

“And why is that?” James asked.

“Is it not as plain as the fangs hanging from your mouth?” Decker spat. “The signs are all there. Death looms over us all. The Icon has risen.”

Oh fuck.

Party Crashers

“The Icon!” Colin exclaimed.

Oh shit. I was afraid of this.

“Calm down, Colin,” James replied. There was an edge in his voice that hadn’t previously been there. The vampire nation was preparing for war against the Feet. Yeah, that sounds stupid to me too, but what are you gonna do? Primal powers that had long lain dormant would most likely join in the fray. We were potentially looking at a global supernatural showdown that would make the battle of Helms Deep look like a slap fight in comparison. The Icon was the last person that any vampire...other than me, maybe...wanted to meet. Outside of sunlight, silver, and stakes to the heart, vamps are pretty damn tough to kill. It shows in their general everyday arrogance. To introduce a wildcard now, one that could potentially turn a legion of vampires to dust with but a touch of her hand, was a recipe for widespread panic - right when the vampire nation needed it least.

“We’re aware of the prophesy, Mr. Decker. However, our own seers have...”

“Then they are as useless as that beast and the diseased harlot with whom we are speaking.”

“I am so gonna rip your lungs out through your asshole, you fucking little weasel!” Yep, that’s Sally. Try to kill her, and she’ll hold her tongue. Call her names and she loses it.

“Everyone, please!” James shouted, attempting to regain control. “Mr. Decker, I apologize for the outbursts. Please indulge us with what you were saying.”

“The Icon lives, vampire,” Decker hissed. “My people have seen it. The portents do not lie. We have double and triple checked them.”

“Did you find out who’s naughty and who’s nice?” Sally sniffed.

“Laugh if you wish, trollop. You know as well as I do that the Icon brings nothing but death. My kind is doomed by its coming, but do not think yours is immune. How many of the undead shall burn at its touch?”

I gotta say, I was starting to take a little offense to his constant referring to the Icon as an
it
. Thankfully, before the words could spill out of my mouth, I remembered what a monumentally bad idea it would be to correct him.

Even worse was the fact that Decker knew Sheila from our workplace. Hell, the asshole had once gone out on a
date
with her. If he had known back then her potential...well, who knows how that night would have played out? As it was, it ended fairly explosively thanks in part to Gan’s presence. Little did I know back then that so many pieces of the fucked up puzzle of my life were in such close proximity.

Sally snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“Hey, anyone home?”

“Huh?”

“Pay attention, dipshit,” she snapped. “Now’s not the time to zone out.”

“Oh, sorry.”

She unmuted the phone while I tried to figure out what I had missed.

“Assuming that is even true,” James was saying, “how can you know it’s a threat? The creature could be living in a cave in Bangladesh for all you are aware.”

“Not true. It is close, that much we can tell.”

“You said it yourself, the Icon’s power somehow counteracts against your own. You have no way of knowing...”

“DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I KNOW, BEAST!” Decker screamed into the phone as an uncomfortable whine of feedback blared on our end. “The Icon is near, perhaps in this very city. I can
feel
its presence, much like a reaper breathing down the back of my neck.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the men in white coats?”

Decker ignored me and continued on his insane tirade. “I was too late to save my people. My protégé was too soft - weak - to do what needed to be done...”

He must have been talking about Christy, and what he said was good to hear. She was much more pleasant to be around when she wasn’t actively plotting to kill me, and it was likewise a good thing for Tom. Though he typically didn’t bring it up, it bothered him that his girlfriend and me didn’t always get along...murderously so. Of course, now Christy had a Sheila shaped pendulum of death hanging over her head. That had potential to be a bit awkward in the near future.