Bill The Vampire - 01 (17 page)

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Authors: Rick Gualtieri

BOOK: Bill The Vampire - 01
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“Well, if it isn't the esteemed, Dr. Death,” he said, standing to greet us.

 

“Considering the alternatives, it's nice to see you again, James.”

 

He frowned mildly at that. “It's
Ozymandias
here, I'm afraid. If I'm expected to respect Night Razor's silly rules when I'm in town, then you most definitely have to, as well. He is your sire, after all.” I winced visibly at that. This caused James... sorry,
Ozymandias…
to grin, and then he spread his arms toward the table.

 

“Enough of the formalities, for the moment. Please sit and order yourselves something. The espresso here is marvelous. Much better than anything up in Massachusetts,” he said as held up his cup. “I dare say, if we ever run out of blood to drink, I'd be more than happy to subsist on this alone.”

 

As I had sucked down a liter earlier in the evening, I wasn't particularly hungry. I just went with an appetizer of mozzarella sticks so as not to seem rude. We were in Little Italy, after all.

 

“You're causing quite the stir, you know,” Ozymandias said after we had placed our order. “It turns out there have been no confirmed freewills mentioned in the archives since before even my time.”

 

“And when exactly
is
before your time?” I queried.

 

“Never ask a vampire his age, my boy. Besides which, the older we get, the more we tend to lie about it. There are plenty of vampires, most of them far less than a millennium old, who love to go around bragging about how they were present at the
Crucification
. If you believed every one of them, the whole thing would have been the size of the
Superbowl
.”

 

“Okay, then let me rephrase the question. How long has it been since there have been people like me...
freewills
I mean, (
I had seen Sally’s smirk out of the corner of my eye
) running around?”

 

“Over six-hundred years, at least.”

 

Whoa! Here I was, sitting with someone who might have personally known Christopher Columbus. It kind of put things into perspective for me.

 

Ozymandias turned to Sally. “Did you tell him what's been happening?”

 

“No,” She replied. “I didn't want his head to swell, or anything.”

 

“Tell me what?” I asked.

 

At Ozymandias' nod, Sally started explaining. “The rest of the coven. You’re all anyone's talked about this whole week. It's driving Jeff bugshit... sorry... Night Razor. There are some wild rumors flying about. Freewills can walk in the sunlight. Freewills can fly. Freewills can
feed
off of other vampires. That kind of stuff.”

 

“All bullshit as far as I'm aware,” I confessed.

 

“No, really!?” Sally said with another fucking eye roll. Gah! It was all I could do to keep from stabbing her with my fork. “The point
is,
you've become a mystery to them. The fact that you
disappeared
for the past week has just fed the gossip.”

 

“Disappeared?” I asked.

 

“Escaped might be a better word,” she replied with twinkle in her eye.

 

“That's a
good
thing,” Ozymandias cut in before I could further question Sally. “It means that, in their minds, you've become greater than the sum of your parts. It means you're going to garner respect from them that's far outside of your age or your deeds. More importantly, it means that there will be just enough doubt in them to probably keep them off your back.”

 

“But I thought I was under your protection.”

 

“That only lasts so long,” he said almost dismissively. “Besides which, it's not a sure thing. Accidents happen. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't put it past Night Razor to sacrifice a few of his children to take you out. As coven head, if he claims they acted on their own, then we'd probably have to believe him.”

 

“But now...” I started.

 

“But now, that's less likely to happen,” he again cut me off. “If they believe just enough, and Sally here seems to think they do, then that, coupled with my protection, might be enough to make it difficult for Night Razor to even try to compel them to act against you for the time being. Maybe even after that.”

 

“And Night Razor?”

 

Sally chimed in, “He doesn't believe a word of it. No matter what, you'll still have him to contend with.”

 

I thought for a second and then said, “Okay. But that doesn't explain why you're both telling me this.”

 

“My motivations will have to remain my own, I'm afraid,” Ozymandias replied. “However, suffice to say at the moment, I'd prefer to keep you alive, even if for just amusement purposes. Even better for you, the Draculas have expressed an interest in seeing you continue to draw breath... in a manner of speaking, of course. Unfortunately, though, they refuse to take a hard stand, either way. And as for little Sally, here...”

 

“Where do you think most of this gossip started?” she finished, a saucy little grin on her face.

 

Okay, that one surprised me a bit. Still, I wasn't exactly convinced of anything. I turned toward her and, matter-of-factly, said, “I thought you were Night Razor's little plaything.”

 

She let my barb roll right off her and calmly answered, “Perhaps. But if, say, a senior, more powerful vampire, were to give me a compulsion to play along and keep my mouth shut, well, even Night Razor couldn't undo that.” She nodded in Ozymandias' direction. “If you catch my drift.”

 

Goddamn it! That didn't really make me feel any better. If I knew she really had an interest in keeping me alive, that would be one thing. But this compulsion bullshit left me uneasy. If that was all that was behind this, then I wasn't sure I trusted it to be enough. Then again, I really had no idea how powerful, outside of its loudness, a compulsion truly was. However, my hesitation to believe her was apparently obvious, as she quickly added, “It probably also doesn't hurt your cause that I can't stand the asshole.”

 

“Hold on. Then what was that you were telling me about you and him?” I asked.

 

“What? You've never slept with someone you disliked before? Hatred sex is pretty goddamn intense,” she purred.

 

I decided to ignore that last bit. I had enough to chew on at the moment. The whole thing was maddening! I shook my head for a second and then gave a little laugh.

 

“The hilarious thing is, not only do I not have any of these bullshit powers that they think I do, but I think I may have even picked up a few extra weaknesses.”

 

“Eh?” Ozymandias grunted, sipping from his third cup of espresso.

 

“Unless, that is, the rest of you have a major allergy to Optimus Prime.”

 

Ozymandias just gave me a blank look in return. “And what exactly is an Optimus Prime?”

 

“The patron saint of eternal virgins,” replied Sally without missing a beat.

 

“Bite me,” I told her.

 

“Not even in your sickest dreams, doughboy.”

 

“Enough, children!” interrupted Ozymandias. “I believe I asked a question.”

 

I brought him up to speed on the timeless (
since the 1980's, at least
) tale of the Transformers and their associated toy lines. When I was finished, Sally's look told me I had gone into far greater detail than probably necessary. Ozymandias' look told me I had done nothing to raise his opinion of me.

 

“Thank you for that
fascinating
diatribe,” drolled Ozymandias. “However, of greater importance to me is the value your friend places on this doll.”

 

“Action figure,” I corrected. Noticing the momentary silence, I quickly added, “There's a difference.”

 

“I'm sure there is, but, once again, I asked a question. I know it's difficult, but please try to focus.”

 

“Sorry. Well, I think it's safe to say Tom, my friend, places a great value on it. He told me that if there's ever a fire, this thing gets saved long before I do.”

 

“Ah, that explains it, then,” said Ozymandias. “Don't worry. This isn't some bizarre affliction or anything. The same thing would happen to any of us.”

 

“Toys from the eighties burn vampires?”

 

“It's faith, stupid,” Sally groaned.

 

“This is a toy, not the Holy Grail. I've never been much of a church goer, but I'm fairly sure faith is all about...”

 

Ozymandias, sensing where this was going, interrupted me, “Forget what you know. Faith has nothing to do with Jesus, Muhammad, Odin, or whomever. Faith is a form of magic, protection magic, to be precise. As a matter of fact, it's probably one of the last forms of real magic that most humans can tap into.” Seeing my look of confusion, he continued, “Stories about vampires have been around for millennia. Obviously by now, you realize that the reason there have been stories about vampires is because we're real. It's not much different with wizards, sorcerers, and the like. Mankind has legends about magic dating back thousands of years, and that’s because some forms of magic are real.”

 

“Most of the real stuff is lost to history. That's why you don't see people shooting lightning at each other on the freeway during rush hour,” Sally added in.

 

“Exactly,” said Ozymandias. “Personally, I blame the Christians for that. Once they decided to equate magic with the devil, which is completely idiotic, by the way, it was all downhill. All it took was a few short centuries for most of it to be completely forgotten. But forgotten doesn't mean it's entirely gone. Faith is one example of that.”

 

“Okay, so how does faith translate into a vampire-burning action figure?” I asked between bites of my appetizer.

 

“Faith is all about belief,” he continued. “All the religions have that part right. What they have wrong is that faith doesn't have to be related to God or angels. It can be in anything. If you believe in something enough, you can actually invest it with a portion of your life-force, energizing it with a bit of white energy. This energy, in turn, has an effect on our kind that is not dissimilar to that of the sun. The whole myth about crosses burning vampires is actually just a misunderstanding. People assume they're calling upon the wrath of God, when, in actuality, it's their belief in the symbols of the church that's doing it. It doesn't matter the vessel. A person could empower a cross, a star of David, or a ham sandwich if they believed in it enough.”

 

“I think I get it. That certainly explains Tom's toy.”

 

Ozymandias nodded, “Yes. It also explains that your friend has some seriously messed up priorities.”

 

I thought about the whole thing for a moment and then asked, “So, how far could a person take this?”

 

“Therein lies a potential problem for us,” he answered. “The stronger the faith, the stronger the effect. Fortunately, most people can do little more than empower trinkets, if even that. However, in the past, there have been individuals...” he trailed off for a moment. “
Problematic
individuals, with a belief in themselves so great that they became walking, talking weapons against us.”

 

At that, I gave my best Keanu Reeves impersonation. “Whoa!”

 

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