Half A Prayer (The Tome of Bill Book 6) Read online

  “How is she doing?”

  “Sally? Oh, she’s as big of a bitch as...”

  “No, Christy. She was a little freaked out when I met her. How’s she doing with the baby?”

  “Oh, fine. Interestingly enough, she freaked out again when she found out you were still alive.” The resulting flare-up of her powers necessitated the use of a fire extinguisher to put out our couch. “But she’s okay with it now.”

  “That’s good to hear. Please send her my regards.”

  “Will do.”

  “So this help you need...”

  “Yeah.” I sat down. This was going to be fun. “You know how the world has been getting ready to shit a brick?”

  “Believe me, I’ve noticed.”

  “Well, it’s started.”

  “Noticed that too.”

  “Good...sorta. Anyway, remember that whole thing about us fighting to the death?”

  “Yes. That girl - Gansetseg, wasn’t it - seemed pretty convinced that you were going to kill me.”

  “Yeah, she’s funny like that.”

  “I’m sorry, by the way.”

  “Huh?”

  “She was a little...intense, but she didn’t deserve what she got. In the end, she helped us out, and that counts a lot in my book.”

  “Gan’s fine,” I interrupted offhandedly.

  “She is?” The surprise was evident in her voice, minus the typical horror one normally expressed when they heard something like that. I had to remember she’d never seen Gan at her finest.

  “Yeah. Apparently, the little psycho jumps off buildings all the time.”

  “Oh...that’s...”

  “Yeah, forget about her. Trust me, I’m trying to.”

  A sly smile played out over Sheila’s face. “She has a crush on you, you know.”

  “Hence the trying to forget about her part.”

  “It’s cute.”

  “She’s a three-hundred-year-old mass murderer.”

  “Maybe a bit less than cute.”

  “Exactly.” Gah! I was letting myself get sidetracked way too easily. If I kept this up, I’d keep talking to her until sunrise. That wasn’t a bad thing, mind you. The problem was if that happened, I’d be stuck, and I was pretty sure Robert would eventually wake up. With no more of Sally’s blood to swig down, I’d probably be forced to do things the old-fashioned way and punch him out...which would most likely go a long way toward undoing any trust I was trying to build up again with Sheila. As much as I hated to do so, I needed to focus and just blurt it out.

  “We might not have to fight to determine the fate of the world.” As far as pickup lines went, I’d used better.

  “Well, that’s good,” she replied, bemused.

  “No, you don’t get it. This prophecy shit is pretty serious. I mean, I don’t take it seriously, but a lot of folks do.”

  “So we just don’t...”

  “That’s the problem. I’m not sure we can avoid it.”

  “Didn’t you just say you don’t take it seriously?”

  “I know and I’m trying really hard not to, but everything I’ve done seems to draw me closer and closer to actually living it out. It’s starting to make me paranoid.”

  “Okay, fine. The Templar were pretty convinced of that too. Let’s pretend for a second that maybe they were right about some things.”

  “Good. Well, that’s just the thing. See, our prophecy, the one the blind vampire seers made...”

  “Blind vampire seers?”

  “Yeah, they’re fucking weirdos. I met them when I was trapped in Switzerland.” I held up a hand. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Anyway, long story short, there’s another Freewill.” She raised an eyebrow and I remembered that the Templar had drilled another name into her head. “Another Night Spawn like me.” I really needed to remember that phrase more often. It was so much cooler than Freewill.

  “Oh.” Her eyes opened wide in surprise, but that was all. It was safe to say she was starting to come to grips with the various nasty surprises the supernatural world liked to toss out when one least expected it. “Are you sure he...or is it she...”

  “It’s a he, and yes, I’m sure. I’m doubly sure he’s bad news. Let's just say he makes Remington’s entire hit squad look like a Girl Scout troop in comparison.”

  “But how...”

  “Because he kicked my ass six ways to Sunday. He turned my dungeon master and he ki...” I swallowed before saying it. Starlight’s death still seemed far too surreal to be true. “He killed a good friend of mine.”

  Sheila was quiet for a moment, then she raised a hand and put it on my shoulder. It wasn’t much, but at the same time, it was insanely, weirdly comforting. I wasn’t sure if it was my feelings for her, something to do with her Iconhood, or maybe a bit of both. All I knew was that for a moment I felt warm inside, and not in an about to burn to a crisp sort of way. Sadly, I had to interrupt the moment. She had to know the danger.

  “His name is Vehron...”

  “That’s a strange name.”

  “They call him Vehron the Destroyer, and believe me, it’s not just some bullshit moniker to make him look cool. This guy is the real deal.”

  “Listen, Bill, I...”

  “You don’t understand. I mean it. He’s over two thousand years old - a former vampire general who used to fuck up whole civilizations for shits and giggles. The guy has a rap sheet a mile long and...” I paused, unsure if I wanted to let her know of Vehron’s other crimes - that he’d been responsible for the deaths of more than one Icon.

  “If this guy’s so old, then where has he been all this time?”

  “He was a decapitated skull in Alexander the Great’s closet. I sorta accidentally set him free when I bumped into his fish tank and...” The look on her face stopped me. “I can assure you I was not drunk at the time.”

  “I didn’t say you were, but you have to understand how it sounds.”

  “Oh, believe me, I understand. Hell, I lived it and still don’t quite believe it.”

  “Okay, fine. Let’s say that’s what happened. Did you track me down, drive all the way up here, just to break the news that I was fated to fight some other guy to the death?”

  “Yes...no... not exactly. I mean, I didn’t drive. I had a little help from...” I was rambling again. If we both lived to be a thousand, I had to wonder whether we’d ever hold a conversation without me sounding like a mumbling idiot. “No, I didn’t come up here to tell you about your fate.”

  “Then why...”

  “I’ll show you.” I looked around and spotted the wrapped sword still lying where I’d dropped it during my second or third compulsion - I didn’t remember which. Reminding myself what it could do, I reached into my pocket and produced a pair of leather gloves.

  Sheila stared, her eyes twinkling as I picked up what was rightfully hers and unwrapped it, being extra careful not to let the blade touch any of my skin. That would’ve fucking hurt.

  I dropped the towel to the floor and lifted the weapon by the hilt. I don’t know if it was some innate power in the sword or her close proximity, but the blade began to glow softly.

  “Is that...?”

  “The sword of Joan of Arc?” I asked. “Not anymore. It’s the Icon’s weapon - your weapon. You asked me why I came up here. Well, I’ll tell you.”

  I held out the sword to her waiting hands. “I came here to recruit you.”

  Shot Down Again

  The fire that had erupted from Sheila earlier was nothing compared to what happened when she grasped the hilt of the sword and held it up in front of her. It was like she became a being of pure energy. White fire engulfed her, so bright that I had to shield my eyes. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. My skin began to blister from our proximity to each other. I backed up a step, and then added three more to it before I felt safe from immediately becoming a pile of Freewill dust.

  It was impress
ive as all hell to watch, but then I realized that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

  “Um, the shades are open,” I pointed out.

  “Huh? Oh...” A look of embarrassment passed over her face, then she closed her eyes and reined it all in. The white power of faith seemed to collapse in on itself until all that remained was a faint glow emanating from the blade.

  “I think it’s happy to be back with you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” She gave the weapon an experimental thrust, then brought it up behind her back and grabbed it with her other hand, swinging it forward again with a skill that would’ve made Inigo Montoya jealous. “Funny to think that only a few months ago I could barely cut a cucumber without slicing my finger. Now...well, I didn’t realize how naked I felt without it.”

  I found my mind wandering back to her clad in only a towel, almost making me wish I had held on to the sword for a little bit longer, but the daydreams could wait for a time when she wasn’t right in front of me...like at night when I was sleeping alone and she was cuddled up next to...grr.

  Once again, those violent impulses passed through my mind, Dr. Death stirring his ugly head, maybe? I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t just me being a jealous prick. Oh well, depending on how thorough my earlier compulsion had been, cuddling would be all she and Robert would be doing. One needed to take comfort where one could get it.

  “So, you were saying?”

  “About what?” I asked, completely caught up in my thoughts.

  “You said you were here to recruit me.”

  “Well, it’s not so much recruiting as hoping you’ll help.”

  She sat down, laying the sword across her lap - almost as if she were afraid I would take it back. As if I could even if I wanted to.

  “Be careful with that thing. Don’t let Robbie go and try hocking it at the next Comic Con.”

  “Don’t worry. I have the perfect place to hide it. How’d you find it anyway? I thought you said something earlier about being trapped in Switzerland?”

  “I was. Long story. Sally was actually holding on to it. Everyone thought you were...” I didn’t want to go there again. “Anyway, she found it after the fight with Remington and thought it deserved better than sitting in some evidence locker.” I left out that her definition of better had turned out to be storing it in a smelly old duffle bag.

  “Thank her for me, please.”

  “I will,” I lied. “So about that recruiting part...”

  * * *

  I filled her in on my adventures with Vehron, how he’d kicked our asses all throughout the tri-state area, finally ending with the disastrous battle in Boston.

  “So this James,” she asked when I’d finished my tale, “he’s one of those Draculas?”

  “Yeah, one of the thirteen vamps in charge and the only good egg in the bunch, at least that I’ve met so far.”

  “Aren’t they the same group that put a warrant out for my head?”

  I guess some things were hard to forget, even after taking a subsonic chunk of metal to the skull. “Yeah. I’m still working out the details, but I’m thinking due to their general disposition toward you, we might have to play this one under the radar. Won’t be too hard. This new Freewill has pretty much killed or enslaved everyone he could get his hands on.”

  She sat back and looked pensive. I could understand. Living life was so much easier when you didn’t have vampire death squads hunting you down.

  “I’ll figure something out,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “I promise. Hell, James will be so happy to have Calibra back that he’ll probably...”

  She sat up straight. “Calibra?”

  “She’s the current Prefect in charge of Boston, assuming she’s still alive. Anyway, James kinda likes her. I get the impression she’s sort of his star pupil.”

  “Oh...okay.” She sat back down, a frown creasing her lips.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought the name sounded familiar for a moment.”

  “Tall girl, thin, wears her hair in a tight bun and walks around like she has a stick jammed up her ass.”

  “Not that...never mind. It’s probably nothing. The Templar used to drill me nonstop in their dogma. I think one of the things they mentioned had a similar name. That’s all.”

  “Well, she could probably pass for the patron saint of office drones. Anyway, James might be able to put in a good word...maybe even get the Draculas off our asses.”

  “You mean my ass.”

  “Ours. Believe me, I’m not going to ditch you...and also, I have a feeling they’ll be kinda pissed at me anyway. Seems they always are.”

  “Bill...”

  “It’s no big deal. I’m used to it by n...”

  “I can’t help you.”

  That stopped me mid-sentence. “What?”

  “I can’t help, at least not now.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of any of them.”

  “I’m not.”

  Oh, of course not. “And you’ll be helping a lot of people out. What’s left of my coven is enthralled by this asshole, not to mention a metric shit-ton of other vamps from the surrounding...”

  “That’s the problem.” Her eyes momentarily flashed white. “They’re not people; they’re vampires.”

  “Yeah, I know. Wait, you do realize I’m a vampire, right?”

  “It’s not that. This isn’t some stupid racist thing.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  She stood, placing the sword carefully onto the couch, and began to pace. “I didn’t agree with everything the Templar said or did. I know they weren’t as righteous as they pretended to be, but there was one thing we did see eye to eye on. They continually told me that I was here, that I was given this power, to protect people - humans.”

  “The last defender of humanity,” I muttered, reiterating yet another part of the prophecy that seemed to hang over our heads like a rapidly descending pendulum.

  “That’s what they said too. I’m still not sure I want to believe that part, but they were right about one thing: I have a gift and I want to use that gift to help those who can’t fight back - to be a beacon of light in the darkness, or try to anyway.”

  I’d be lying if I said that her speech didn’t give me some wood. To hear a goddess like her spout off what was essentially a superhero origin story was pretty goddamned hot. It took me a moment to focus again enough to speak. “That’s cool. I want to help you help people too.”

  “But this won’t be helping people.”

  “Sure it will. This asshole is enslaving covens left and right, turning them against...”

  She walked over and knelt in front of where I sat, leveling her gaze with mine. To my surprise, she took my hands in hers. The slightest of sparks traveled up my arm at her touch, although I had no idea if it was her power or just wishful thinking on my part. “Listen to me, Bill. I know you mean well, but you’re wrong about this.”

  “How so?”

  “Say I go with you and we manage to defeat this Destroyer. Then what?”

  “James can take over the Boston complex again and secure it against...”

  “Against your enemies,” she interrupted. “They’ll lock it up tight again so they can fight this war you told me about...so they can win it. And what happens when they do? Are they going to go back to hiding in the shadows? Can you honestly tell me they’re fighting this war so they can leave humanity alone?”

  I didn’t answer for several seconds. I saw where she was going and, deep down, knew she was right. Fighting for either the vamps or the Sasquatches meant only one thing: humanity was gonna get the short end of the stick. They might not go quietly and it might not be easy, but at the end of the day, I’d learned one thing from a lifetime of gaming and comic books - the beings with the superpowers usually won.

  Still, I had no intention of letting any of that happen. Stopping Alex and his mad qu
est for world domination was at the top of my to-do list. The problem was that Sheila hadn’t seen Vehron in action, but I had. That guy seriously needed to die. Otherwise, he was going to start resurrecting the dogma of his people, a bunch of psychos ridiculously called the Cult of Ib. I didn’t know a lot about them, but I’d been told they wanted nothing less than to see the world burn.

  “You don’t understand.” I held up a hand before she could speak, stopping myself short from placing a finger on her lips. That most certainly wouldn’t have helped my concentration. “I don’t want the vampires to win either. This guy, though, he’s not going to stop. He’s going to whittle away at both sides until...”

  “You’re not putting forth much of a convincing argument here.”

  “I know. What I’m trying to say is this guy scares the ever-living shit out of me. He’s bad news for everyone: vampires, humans, and whatever the hell else is out there.”

  “I still don’t...”

  “Including you. He’s already killed two Icons, and that’s only the tip of this fucker’s iceberg.”

  “Already?”

  “I told you, this guy is old. He was razing kingdoms to the ground before either of us were gleams in our great-great-great-grandfathers’ eyes.”

  “So you want me to fight...”

  “I want us to fight him. Night Spawn and Icon together. We won’t be alone either. We have Sally, Ed, Tom, and Christy.”

  “So...your roommates, a vampire fashion model, and a pregnant witch?”

  “Well, yeah, although Sally’s not really a fashion model, and I’m pretty sure Ed isn’t fully human anymore.”

  “Fine. The six of us against this one vampire.”

  “And all the vamps he’s bent to his will. And however many zombies he released onto the streets of Boston.”

  “Zombies?”

  “Yep.”

  “And how many is that?”

  “I...a few.”

  “A few?”

  “A lot, maybe.”

  “Well, you’re certainly ambitious, I’ll give you that.”

  “One needs to have hobbies.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “So,” I asked, looking her in her silver eyes. “Are you in?”