The Tome of Bill (Book 6): Half A Prayer (26 page)

Unsurprisingly, there was hesitation amongst them at my request.

“Or we could do this the hard way.”

* * *

The number one rule of the vampire world is never blink first. Vampire culture is almost entirely fear-based. The older and stronger vamps control the younger ones like cattle, and that gets paid forward to each subsequent generation. Typically, it was easy to tell who was top dog. If another vamp could compel you, then that meant they were in charge and you were a piece of shit.

The problem was, I was the exception to that rule. I couldn’t be compelled, and that threw a monkey wrench into most vampires’ worldly outlooks. I may not like a lot of things about being undead, but I sure as shit loved fucking with the system.

The redheaded guy who’d tried to sass me seemed to have his act together a bit better than the rest, but just barely. If I had to guess, he was a corporal to their buck privates. The others looked at him questioningly and he shrugged.

The vampiric Ron Weasley reached into his trench coat and produced a flask. He unscrewed it and held it out to me, hand shaking slightly as if afraid I might try to bite him. Had I not been solidly chained to the ground, I might’ve given it a thought, but as it was, the concept of having my head kicked in again didn’t sound particularly favorable at the moment.

“Don’t try anything funny,” he said. “You won’t get nothing out of this anyway. It’s just human blood.”

Fuck yeah! That’s what I’d been hoping to hear. For once, the power-up didn’t matter to me. From the look of this crowd, it wouldn’t have been worth shit anyway. I didn’t let him know that, though. I just glared until he held the flask to my mouth and tipped it.

Oh, sweet mother of God, how good it tasted going down. Ooh, and an added bonus - Junior here had spiked it. Apparently, his victim had been named Johnnie Walker. I sucked down a huge swallow and bared my lips in a snarl when he tried to pull it back.

I quickly drained the contents, wishing there’d been more, but feeling a thousand times better nevertheless. My head cleared and lost the numbness that had been weighing it down since I’d awakened following Miranda’s sacrifice.

“Well,
that
was useful,” Sally groused.

“Hey, I’m a simple guy. 'One problem at a time' is my motto.”

“I thought it was 'bang anything with two legs, then make excuses four seconds later.'“

Ed chuckled - what a dick - but then, so did a few of the guards.

“They’re my friends -
they’re
allowed to laugh. Everyone else...” I let the threat hang in the air. Fuck it, as long as I was playing alpha dog, I might as well have some fun with it.

It had the desired effect of sobering up this crew. Right about now, I imagined they all thought back to any of a hundred movies in which a group of hapless guards were transporting a dangerous-as-fuck prisoner you just knew would escape before the first act was over.

The truck jolted, making me think we’d either hit a massive pothole or just run over something big. Considering the state of the world, at least what I knew of it, I didn’t care to speculate which. For all I knew, we were currently living out a Mad Max style car chase in a sparse desert populated by masked weirdos.

“Yo, Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla,” I said to the guy who seemed to be in charge. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at that and I blew out a sigh. Was nobody in the undead world into pop culture? What a sad group of deprived assholes. Oh well. “I didn’t get a chance to ask politely back at Pandora, but what are the charges?”

“Excuse me?”

“What are we being arrested for?”

“That’s none of your business,” he replied back after a moment. “And the name is Farley.”

Farley?

“He doesn’t know,” Ed surmised.

The look on the vamp’s face took on a decisively unfriendly countenance. “I would hold my tongue, human, before I tear...”

“That
human
happens to be my friend,” I interrupted. “We have a nice easy truce going on here, Farley. Would be a shame to break it and force things to get all messy.” I stared him down, not unlike this one time my D&D character was in a standoff against a pissed off frost giant who didn’t like us trespassing on his mountain. I’d rolled an eighteen on my bluff check and Dave had been forced to act it out rather than drop an avalanche on our heads like he wanted to.

“The First didn’t tell them,” Sally said at last. I couldn’t help but notice her usage of their proper title. No doubt she realized what thin ice we stood on. If forced to choose who they were more afraid of - our ruling council or a bunch of schmucks chained to the floor of a truck - I had little doubt we’d wind up with the short end of that stick.

“Okay,” I said. “Fair enough. But can you at least tell us where we’re going? I mean, I’d like to know if we’re almost there or if I should be asking what the schedule is for piss breaks.”

“It is not for any of us to question the First,” Farley replied, towing the party line like a good sycophant.

“Of course not,” Sally replied. “All glory to their wisdom.” Amazingly enough, she managed to keep from rolling her eyes as she said that, but I could tell what she was doing - reassuring them we were all on the same side, that this was one big misunderstanding...whatever the fuck it was about.

That was one giant steaming load of bullshit, of course. I’d done a shitload to piss off vampires much higher ranked than me. Hell, barely a day went by when I wasn’t forced to consider that had I been anything other than the Freewill, I’d have had my ass staked to dust long ago - probably deservedly so.

That my sins were finally catching up to me wasn’t a surprise. I just had no idea which one I was destined to fry for.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been unconscious after those goons had kicked my ass back at Pandora’s Box. It probably wasn’t too long - vampire physiology being what it is. Regardless, we seemed to be in for the long haul in our own personal cargo truck of doom. The vehicle kept going for what felt like hours. The seating arrangements were uncomfortable enough as it was, but after a while, the continual bouncing and swaying of the trailer made it near torturous - and that was just me. I could only imagine how numb Ed’s mostly human ass felt.

Proving they weren’t complete monsters, or perhaps they just weren’t keen on riding in an unventilated box that reeked of piss, we at least were granted one quick bathroom break. Sadly, nothing could be gleaned from it. They tossed hoods over our heads once the truck had stopped and we were dragged out to do our business - or try to. Hell, I have piss anxiety as it is whenever a guy is standing at the urinal next to mine in a public bathroom. Trying to drain the mega-shark while blindfolded and surrounded by armed guards was a nerve-racking experience at best. At least they cuffed my hands in front, saving me the trouble of having to rely on someone else to shake it off.

Oh well, based on the protests she’d voiced on the trip back to our temporary metal prison, it was probably worse for Sally. All things considered, I decided to spare her any assholish remarks once we were underway again. Our situation was bad enough as it was. Also, I didn’t relish her kicking me in the nuts the second she had a chance.

Finally, after more hours on the road, I got the impression we were nearing our destination. The truck stopped several times before moving on again for a short distance. Each time, my sensitive vampire ears could make out voices beyond the walls.

“Security checkpoints?” I offered.

“That or a lot of red lights,” Ed replied.

A few minutes later, the sound of heavy machinery accompanied our next stop. A dull booming seemed to echo in the trailer.

When next we began to move, our mobile prison had a decisively forward slant to it. The implication was obvious; we were heading down. Judging from the slow speed, I guessed us to be in a parking garage or similar such structure - someplace where they could unload their
cargo
without being seen.

As to what would happen to us next, that was anyone’s guess. I managed to keep my demeanor calm and collected for the benefit of our guards, but inwardly, I was close to crying like a pussy.

According to our captors, their orders had come down from on high, from the Draculas themselves. To me, this meant only one thing. We faced a possible confrontation with one of the few vampires I had no problem admitting scared me shitless: Alexander.

* * *

As the truck shifted into reverse and began slowly backing up - probably toward whatever final destination awaited us - I had a few moments to consider the implications.

I’d inadvertently unleashed Vehron the Destroyer back upon the world after fourteen hundred years. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. I had figured maybe he had some intelligence he could share with us - stuff that could be useful in stopping our war with the Feet. I also had no idea at the time of his liberation that his surname was “The Destroyer.” Had I known that, I might’ve stuffed his decapitated cranium into Alex’s toilet instead and taken my chances.

That was the kicker right there. I’d found Vehron’s remains not in a vampire prison, but in a locked display case in Alex’s private quarters. He hadn’t been alone, either. Rows upon rows of preserved vampire heads had stared back at me from that space. That in of itself wasn’t so much the problem, other than speaking to some fucking weird fetishes on his part.

No, the real problem had been the odd feeling I’d gotten in my gut upon viewing them...as if there was something different, almost familiar, about all the faces looking back at me. I learned too late Vehron was another Freewill just like me, except infinitely more powerful, twisted, and muscular. I mean, seriously, once that dude’s body had grown back, I sure as shit didn’t want to compete against him at a nightclub.

Ignoring him for the moment, the implications of it all had eventually become clear to me. The Freewills were the legendary warriors of the vampire race: generals, conquerors, and overall badasses. They were the guys the Draculas turned loose on their enemies when shit got real. The thing is, they all disappeared hundreds of years ago. Some thought they were killed. Others thought they’d just up and vanished into thin air. In truth, they’d all
retired
and taken up jobs as bookends in Alex’s boudoir.

Now, at least as far as Alex was probably concerned, I was the only other vampire to know this secret. I had a disturbing feeling he had a vested interest in making sure I kept my mouth shut permanently.

* * *

At last, we stopped and someone unlocked the truck’s back gate from the outside. Our captors unchained us from the floor but didn’t bother blindfolding us this time. I was still debating whether or not that was a good thing when the back doors swung open and a greasily familiar voice wafted in.

“Well done, trainees.”

Trainees
?

“I will be sure to note your success on this mission in my report. The First will be pleased to learn you have proven your loyalty. Perhaps next time they will assign your squad to a mission in which the quarry is actually somewhat dangerous.”

Farley and his men all stood at attention before the pale thin man in the overly crisp suit. Had my hands not been shackled behind my back, I’d have given him a nice one-fingered salute instead. “Hi, Colin.”

We marched out of the trailer to an industrial-sized loading dock. I took a quick look around, squinting in the overly bright artificial light filtering down from far above. If this was a parking garage, it was like no other I’d ever seen. The place was fucking huge and every surface appeared to be made of concrete reinforced with heavy steel.

Unfortunately, the décor wasn’t my main concern right then. Colin stood before us. A column of vampires that looked a lot more seasoned than the grunts we’d been forced to drive with flanked him on either side. I noticed our friend, the Asian commando who’d backhanded Sally, among them. He nodded to the men who’d been tasked with guarding us and they fell in line behind him.

We stood together, facing Colin. I spared a glance at my friends on either side of me. Ed’s face was impassive, probably waiting to see what the fuck was up. Raw annoyance showed on Sally’s mug. I could understand that. Colin was ten gallons of cheap prick stuffed into five gallons of expensive Armani suit.

He strolled over, his gait slow - obviously enjoying himself.

Finally, he stopped in front of us, albeit, I noted, right outside of the range where one of us could’ve punted his balls through the roof.

“I would correct you on my proper title, Freewill,” he replied, the smarm so thick I could’ve planted daisies in it, “but that would be holding you to a standard that you are incapable of achieving.
This,
on the other hand,” he gestured toward our shackles, “is far more in line with what I expect of you and your compatriots.”

He turned his head ever so slightly. “As for you, dear Sally...” He backed up a step, eyeing the ripped up combat shirt she still wore. A sly smirk crossed his face. “Well, there is that saying about lying down with pigs.”

“Oh, one day, I am
so
gonna enjoy...”

He put his hand to his ear and leaned in. “What was that, my dear? Speak louder, please. If you’re going to throw out idle threats, you might as well make sure you have ample witnesses that can testify against you.”

Sally gritted her teeth, but kept quiet. Considering the circumstances, I was pretty certain anything she said would be held against her with extreme prejudice.

“So what happened?” I asked. “Did you get demoted again? Let me guess. You’re now the esteemed prison warden of the First Coven?”

“Hardly, Freewill. I maintain my current position serving the Wanderer and the collective will of the First.”

I raised an eyebrow at his mention of James, but said nothing. I had to wonder whether this was yet another ploy of Alexander’s that he’d neglected to tell his younger coven brother.

“I just came down here to welcome you and your friends,” Colin continued. “And enjoy the view of you in chains, of course. Speaking of which...”