The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill Book 8) Read online

  Internally, however, I was really hoping he declined.

  “Thought you come to make peace,” Cunt said from up ahead. “Yet you challenge my k’tun to combat?”

  “Um, k’tun?”

  Gan stepped up and nudged me in the side. “You may wish to know, Dr. Death, that means father in their language.”

  Oh Jesus Fucking Christ! “No. That was just smack talk.”

  “Smack talk?” Cunt asked. With that, he backhanded the sapling next to him, shattering it into splinters.

  “Different type of smack,” I clarified. “It’s ... a T’lunta custom, where we say inappropriate things to people we have great respect for.” That’s right, Bill, dig yourself in even deeper.

  “You are such a pussy,” Sally muttered.

  “I see,” the Sasquatch said. “Much like your mate talk to you now. Stupid custom, but Cunt understand.”

  Sheila spun back toward us, one eyebrow raised, but I mouthed “Not now” to her.

  Forget forging a new peace. We’d be lucky if we made it past the next minute or two.

  * * *

  Fortunately for us, the Sasquatches had continued in their fine tradition of electing complete morons as leaders. The whole “strongest must lead” trope might have made for a good caveman movie, but in actual practice, it ensured that the folks sitting at the other end of the negotiating table were a few quarts short of a gallon when it came to brains.

  Cunt nodded and two more of the monsters stepped forward from the shadows. I guess they were dignitaries or the welcome wagon. Or, fuck, maybe they just liked the taste of skunk, because they took them from me and Sally. When they got to Gan, however, they wrinkled their noses.

  “Not T’lunta,” one of them said, sounding confused.

  The other took a long sniff, snorting up what sounded like a gallon of snot in the process. “Not know. Look like T’lunta warrior others claim to fight, but smell different.”

  They grunted a few syllables to their leader, to which he asked, “Why this one offer peace? This one not at war.”

  “I will have you know, I have slaughtered...”

  I stepped in front of Gan. “Yes, she’s slaughtered many cows. Little bugger just hates them. Anyway, she’s one of our allies, just signed a treaty with us, so we figured we’d bring her. But aside from that, she’s new here. Never even met a ... whatever is the polite term for you guys. She just has one of those faces. You know how it is.”

  We were finally making progress but, for whatever reason, I didn’t think letting slip that the vampire nation had a whole new strain, one capable of withstanding sunlight, was a great idea. For all I knew, this would cause our hosts to freak out or demand we offer her as a gift for dissection.

  Don’t get me wrong, a world free of the fear I’d wake up chained to Gan’s bed was something I strived for, but that didn’t mean I was willing to sell the micro-demon down the river for it.

  Cunt nodded toward the Bigfoot closest Gan. He grabbed the dead skunk from her hands and tossed it away, back over our heads, eliciting a quick “Gross!” from Veronica as it hit her with a wet splat.

  Oh fuck it. That was kinda funny.

  Just as the two Feet were about to step away, one of them glanced back and cast an eye on Tom.

  Oh no, not again.

  However, it simply gave a sniff before turning away.

  “This human smell nicer than others.”

  THE NEGOTIATING TABLE

  Much like during our last foray into the Woods of Mourning, we were escorted to a Sasquatch village and deposited into a crude hut until such time as they were ready to talk.

  The place was large enough for us all, but that was pretty much the end of the creature comforts. It might have been clean by Sasquatch standards, but even sitting at the crude stone table in the middle of the place had me wishing I’d brought along a gallon of hand sanitizer.

  But hey, at least they left us some snacks. The frozen corpse of a hiker was propped up in one corner and the table was covered in bowls ... some of them containing nuts; others full of things that still wriggled.

  “Brings back the memories, eh?” I asked Tom.

  He flipped me the middle finger.

  Sheila looked at us quizzically from across the table, and I explained how we’d tricked him into thinking he’d been zombified.

  It was all we could do. The non-witches, especially Sheila, had been relegated to the center of the room while Christy and her coven hastily etched sigils into the four corners of the hut.

  “There. We should have some privacy now.”

  “Are you sure?” Sally asked.

  “Only one way to find out,” Meg replied before shouting, “Hey, Bill! When you finally kill that fucking Cunt, make sure it hurts!”

  What the...?! I stood up. “Are you fucking insane?”

  She raised her hand to her ear with a grin. “I guess not.”

  Sally poked me in the side. “I like her.”

  “You would. Oh, by the way, Gan, sorry for interrupting you back there.”

  “While I have no desire to hide my many victories over the Alma, perhaps it is for the best. The machinations of Ib are our business to deal with. The Alma, being our eternal enemies, are best left in the dark.” She waved a hand like it was nothing and then scooted over closer to me.

  I took that as my cue to get up and pace. “Yeah, learning that an army of vamps with much more sunny dispositions than usual was in the works could really throw a monkey wrench into our talks.”

  “I see what you did just there,” Kelly said to me with a smile.

  “Then you’re going to love this, because up next, we need to discuss the six-hundred-pound gorilla in the room.”

  “I’m pretty sure most of them weigh more than that.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want to test that by having any of them sit on me,” Tom said. “The way that one said I smelled good kinda creeped me out.”

  “Sorry, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “But since you’re basically the magical equivalent of a RealDoll now, I think we should keep that possibility on the table as a negotiating chip.”

  Tom’s eyes opened wide in horror. Dead, alive, or somewhere in between, he was just too easy.

  “What I really meant was...”

  “Let me guess,” Meg interrupted. “The big problem is that the leader of these fuckers ... sorry, Christy, I mean the leader of the Forest Folk has a name that’s gonna be almost impossible to negotiate a peace against without laughing at.”

  Sheila nodded. “My power can instill a near stupid level of confidence in me, but this is completely different. Even I’m not sure about that one.”

  “It’s just a word,” Sally said. “Get over it.”

  “I know it’s just a word, but it’s...”

  “The nuclear option?” I offered.

  “Yes!” Sheila replied, throwing her hands up.

  “I do not see the issue,” Gan said. “It is simply a translation from one inelegant language to another.”

  “Trust me, I get it,” I replied. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of loose with my tongue.”

  “Pretty sure it’s not just you,” Tom added.

  “Yes, I know. But what I mean is, in a world of lots of fucks to give, his name just happens to be the one under glass that you only break in case of fire. In other words, only if you really really mean it.”

  “Gee,” Sally said with mock concern, “and here I had you pegged as someone who definitely had a friend named Mike Hunt.”

  “Fuck you, cunt.”

  * * *

  As a trio of Sasquatch escorts led us to where the talks would take place, I considered the ridiculousness of the situation. Here we were, trying to stave off the end of the world, and yet our immediate concern was not losing it and laughing at a giant gorilla with a stupid name.

  Ah yes, life was strange some days.

  “Wow,” Sheila said as we came to the hollow, at the bottom o
f which lay a large table that appeared to have been grown more than built.

  “You should have seen it last time,” I replied, noting how empty it was.

  “Yeah,” Tom remarked. “Bill almost punched out a snack cart vendor.”

  I flashed him a dirty look. Not one of my finer moments. Still, it was amazing how different it seemed now. Before, it had been noisy, full of all sorts of oddball life. In a way, it had felt sort of like the paranormal equivalent of Woodstock, up until the point where the crowd had turned on me.

  Now, though, it had a sort of peaceful quality to it. I could imagine taking a hike in the woods and stumbling upon this place. It would seem like something out of a fairy tale, at least until you realized this was sacred Bigfoot ground and they ripped off your arms for trespassing.

  Their leader was already seated at one end, with a couple of other Sasquatches around him.

  “Is Grulg one of them?” I asked Sally in a hushed whisper.

  “Not as far as I can tell.”

  “These things need name tags.”

  “You’d just piss yourself laughing.”

  “Yeah,” I mused, “you’re probably right.”

  We were led down to the table. There, one of the Sasquatches pointed out a raised seat in the center. “Your place, Silver Eyes.”

  “Congrats,” I said to her. “You get to play the role of the big glowing ball of death this time.”

  “What?” she asked, eyes wide.

  “Inside joke. Good luck; you’ll do fine.”

  I flashed her a thumbs up and she smiled, albeit there was uncertainty behind it. Jeez, put that girl in a fight and she was all kick-ass and take names. Ask her to look one giant ape with a stupid fucking name in the eye, though, and suddenly there was an issue.

  “T’lunta and mate sit there,” one of the beasts snarled. I couldn’t help but notice its tone was ever so slightly less respectful toward us.

  Gan immediately stepped forward – presumptuous little minx – but the squatch held up a hand. “No! Table only for T’lunta.” He spat a hock of nastiness on the ground at her feet. “You and witches sit there.”

  “I am not one of them,” she replied indignantly. “I am here in the capacity of...”

  “Not care. Sit.”

  “She’s ... my advisor.” I didn’t want Gan’s feathers to get ruffled and for her to start any fights we couldn’t win. More importantly, she knew what the fuck she was doing. Last time I was here, I’d had to sit at the head of the table, but it had originally been as a figurehead position. The reason was simple: I wasn’t a fucking diplomat! I doubt I’d be able to even tell the parchment that stupid accord was written on apart from something I’d wiped my ass with.

  The big ape snarled at me. “She advise from there, then.” He pointed a large finger at the spot right next to Christy.

  I glanced over at Cunt, hoping maybe he’d say something, but he was busy with important matters involving an itch on his ass. Finally, I nodded. “It’s okay, Gan. It’s not like there’s a crowd to shout over if I need you.”

  “As you wish,” she replied curtly. Glad to see she wasn’t letting a little thing like ego get in the way. Just to add a little extra oomph to her pouting, though, she left a wide gap between her and Christy when she finally sat down. Oh yeah, she might claim to be three hundred years old, but she had the attitude of a preteen down to a science.

  Christy, for her part, opened her bag and placed Decker’s skull down between her and Gan. Just great. He’d been quiet on the walk over. I think Christy had whammied him into silence, but even so, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with his eye sockets looking my way.

  Finally, I turned to Sally. “Shall we?”

  “Can I get a proper introduction, or should I just carry your laundry for you?”

  “Oh, sorry.” I turned to our escort, albeit not before allowing myself a small grin. “This is Sally. She’s my partner.”

  The beast cocked its head to the side, making it possibly look even stupider. “Part Ner?”

  “Yeah, she’s not my mate.”

  “Nor am I applying for the position,” she added, because why not kick me in the balls when I was trying to help her?

  I glanced up and saw Sheila watching us intently. Hopefully, she found as much amusement in this as our hosts.

  The squatch shrugged. “Okay. Sit with servant.”

  “She’s not my servant. She’s my partner. It means equal.”

  “She female T’lunta.”

  “So?”

  The Sasquatch turned to his side of the table and grunted a few times. After a moment, they all burst into laughter. Not really a confidence builder, I might add.

  When they were finished, Cunt spoke up. “T’lunta funny. Now sit.”

  “Yeah, but...”

  “SIT!”

  I planted my ass firmly in my chair. After a beat, Sally slid in and took the seat next to mine.

  I leaned over to her. “I’m assuming that women’s suffrage hasn’t quite caught on here yet.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Just try not to start a war.” She glared at me. “I meant another war ... or a worse war.”

  Oh yeah, we were off to a great start.

  A PIECE OF PEACE TAKE TWO

  “Let’s see if I get this right,” Sheila said with a nervous chuckle.

  I took some slight amusement at her discomfort. In a way, it was also nice to see. Though Icons and vamps were like oil and water, it seemed the transformation into one or the other had at least one thing in common: a change in attitude. The majority of vamps I knew were predators. Most of them didn’t even try to maintain their humanity. For Icons, however, the change was a bit more positive, but a change nevertheless. Seeing her nervous like this reminded me of the old her, the one I’d fawned over for three years.

  Being members of warring species, I’d thought the rift between us too wide to cross. Now, however, seeing her vulnerable like this, I began to wonder if perhaps I hadn’t been too hasty in my judgment.

  “We, the gathered, are here to bear witness...” she began.

  I smiled. They were the same words that had kicked off the last summit. Although back then they had been mind-beamed into us all by some glowing ball of magical energy that served as mediator, not to mention judge, jury, and executioner. All in all, I considered our current host to be a considerable upgrade.

  Of course, far cuter than a floating globe of death or not, the official opening statement was still boring as fuck. Goddamn, I so hated ceremony. Why couldn’t we just get on with it?

  “...the leader of the Northern Tribes...” Sheila paused for a moment, composing herself. “Big C.”

  The Sasquatch leader looked up at that. “Huh?”

  It had been our little compromise back in the hut. She just wasn’t comfortable saying his name, at least without dissolving into giggles like she was a little girl caught swearing. It was kind of cute, but ultimately not the best thing to do during life or death negotiations.

  “What say?” he asked.

  “My apologies,” she replied as we’d rehearsed. “Among the Silver Eyes there is a tradition to honor great warriors. We give them a nickname of respect that all will tremble before. You, mighty ... Big C,” she sputtered, almost losing it for a moment. “I was so impressed upon our meeting, that I thought to convey such an honor upon you. I am sorry if I was wrong, though. I will stop...”

  “No!” the Sasquatch roared, then softened its voice, as much as it could anyway. “Cunt is mighty warrior. Mighty Cunt indeed.”

  Oh crap, I could see the corners of her lips trembling.

  “You honor me, Silver Eyes.”

  She turned to me, panic on her face as she struggled to keep from laughing. Oh crap. What to do?

  Oh, wait. What I did best ... play the part of the asshole.

  I pounded on the table. “All right, enough of this shit. Let’s move on!”

  The Sasquatches at the other
end all glared at me. Definitely a social faux pas on my part and probably not a great thing to do while trying to bargain for peace, but it worked. The impending bout of laughter fell off of Sheila’s face and she flashed me a look of gratitude before simply stating, “I similarly welcome, representing the vampire nation, the reborn Freewill Bill Ryder.”

  “HAH!” the Bigfoot leader shouted, smashing his fist into the table much as I’d done, if a lot more effectively. “No honor for you from Silver Eyes!”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but Sally silenced me with an elbow to the side.

  “Don’t do it,” she warned. “This is a good thing.”

  Once I gave it a moment’s thought, I realized she was right. Though our word game was meant to keep the inappropriate giggles to a bare minimum, by doing so, Sheila had inadvertently proven her neutrality to the Feet, maybe even convinced them she leaned slightly in their favor. If the stupid shit monkeys thought she was on their side, it could make these negotiations much easier.

  “That will be enough,” Sheila said, moving smoothly into the next part of her role. “These are to be respectful negotiations.”

  Hah! That was a good one.

  To help emphasize her point, she drew her sword. It flashed brilliantly, lighting up the hollow. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she was putting a little extra oomph into it just for show. Regardless, she laid it down on the table. “I need not remind either side that, as mediator here, it is my duty to both move these negotiations forward and enforce that the dictates of neutrality remain in place. Any who violate those dictates will be dealt with swiftly and with finality.”

  That last part was the big question. I wasn’t too worried about myself or Sally. The worst we would probably do was some verbal sparring, something that fell somewhat short of an executable offense. The other side was far more likely to let their fists do the talking, the problem being that none of us – not even Gan – had any idea whether Sheila’s powers would be effective against them.