Bill The Vampire - 01 (30 page)

On initial glance, the only thing that seemed odd were the inhabitants of the various desks. Typing away within the cubes, looking even more lifeless than the denizens of a typical corporate office, were persons in various stages of decay. Holy shit! Zombies! Okay, so they were performing clerical duties as opposed to trying to eat our brains, but zombies nevertheless. Cool!

I couldn't help myself. I put my hands together in the shape of a pistol. As I walked past the cubicles, I started pointing my 'gun' at the inhabitants and whispering, “Pew! Headshot! Pew! Pew! Die, zombie bastards!”

Yeah, subtle I am not.

After a second or two, Sally stopped short to turn toward me and growl, “What exactly is fucking wrong with you?”

“What?”

“Were you dropped on your head repeatedly as a child?”

“No.”

“Maybe fell into the pool and were underwater a little too long?”

“I don't think so...”

“Then why, pray tell,” she hissed, “are you insistent on embarrassing the ever living shit out of me?”

“But they're zombies,” I sheepishly offered.

“Yes!” she continued her tirade. “They are disgusting, putrefying corpses. But you know what? They are keeping their fucking mouths shut and not walking around looking like a goddamned retard, unlike you!”

“Can I help you?” a voice from behind Sally suddenly asked. She jumped and whirled around to face it. Standing there was a tall, thin woman, wearing a business suit, her hair done up in a tight bun. She was good looking (
of course! I was beginning to think I was the sole vampire on the planet who couldn’t pass as a swimsuit model
), but had a severe, no-nonsense attitude about her. Whoever she was, she was good. Neither of us had sensed her approaching.

“Let me repeat myself,” she said when we didn’t answer, “can I help you, or would you prefer to continue disrupting our workplace?”

Before Sally could say a word, I jumped in with my most sincere voice. “We're terribly sorry. No offense was intended. My friend here has a terrible case of Tourette's, and thus can't help the potty mouth.”

Sally glared daggers at me. I had little doubt she was contemplating exactly how far up my ass she could stuff my head once she had ripped it off. After a second or two of mentally killing and dismembering me, she turned to the newcomer and said, “We're from Village Coven in New York. We need to see James.”

“I don't think James is in. Did you call ahead for an appointment?”

Sally seemed to pause at this question. “No,” she finally answered.

“So, you came all the way up from New York, but you didn't think to take two minutes to call first to see if he was around?” asked the woman, raising one eyebrow. Sally actually blushed at this, which one would think was fairly difficult for a dead person to do. I didn’t know who this woman was, but if she could verbally slap Sally down so easily, then I liked her.

“Listen. It's been a stressful week, and you're really not helping,” Sally shot back. “Is Colin around?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, then kindly point us toward him, and I'll stop disrupting your workplace.”

The woman narrowed her lips and appeared to be contemplating some sort of comment, but instead just hooked a thumb and pointed it down the hall. “End of the corridor, through the double doors. And please go quietly. The beings in this building actually work for a living.” She looked Sally up and down for a moment. “Not that I'd expect you to understand.”

I can't stress this enough, it is
always
fun to watch a battle between alpha bitches.

I followed Sally in the direction our gracious hostess pointed us. I could practically see steam blowing out of her ears. Logic dictated I change the subject, and for perhaps the first time in my life I actually heeded its warning. Maybe I'm mellowing out in my old age.

“Who's Colin?” I asked, as it seemed a neutral enough topic.

“He's James' assistant. We go way back, so let me handle him.”

“Ex boyfriend?” I queried.

“Not quite,” was all the answer I got.

We arrived at a set of double doors and a quick buzzing noise told us they were unlocked. We walked in and, let me tell you, this was more like it. We stepped from the sea of cubicles into some serious style. It was kind of like what I might imagine Kenneth Lay's executive suite in Hell might look like. The floor was made of what looked to be obsidian, and the walls were exquisitely carved grey stone, quite possibly carved from the very earth around us. Dozens of candles illuminated the area. It would have made for a very convincing evil overlord throne room, except for a series of leather chairs set off in a little waiting area and, at the far end of the room, in front of another set of doors, a rich mahogany desk, which was illuminated by the glow of a monitor. Who'd a thunk it... the undead preferred Macs.

Seated behind the desk was a thin male vampire wearing a suit that appeared to be far outside of my price range. He might have looked important with the exception of his slicked back hair, which gave him a bit of a weasely, used car salesman vibe. As we neared his desk, he turned his attention toward us. His beady little eyes looked me up and down with obvious distaste. However, I saw a glimmer of recognition flash as he turned toward Sally.

“Well, well,” he said in a slick voice that sounded as if it were well lubricated from years of ass kissing, “It's been a while since you've been up in our neck of the woods, my dear Lu...”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Colin,” she said, cutting him off, “it's Sally? Coven protocol, and all.”

“Of course,” our oily friend replied. “My apologies,
Sally
.”

Did he just...? Huh, I had never even bothered to think that Sally wasn't her real name. Now that I thought of it, I guess that was kind of stupid of me, considering all the idiotic pseudonyms running around our coven. I'd have to ask her about that later.

Sally brushed off his greeting and got straight to business, “We're here about James.”

“We?” asked Colin, once again shifting his eyes in my direction.

“Hi,” I said sticking out my hand. “I'm Bill, but everyone in the coven calls me... Dr. Death.” Yeah, you guessed it. It was another one of those cases where something sounded a lot cooler in my head. It probably also didn't help things that my hand was still stuck out there like a doofus. I quickly lowered it when it became apparent that no return shake was incoming.

Instead, Colin frowned and began typing on his keyboard. “Dr. Death?” he said more to himself than either of us. “Oh, well, I guess it's not any dumber sounding than Night Razor.”

“That's what I said!”

He ignored me, however, and was still looking at his screen when his eyes went wide. “
You're
the Freewill?” he asked with a tone of disbelief.

“What are you looking at?” I asked.

“Your profile.”

“I have a profile?”

“
All
vampires have a profile,” he sniffed. “God, Sally, don't you people at least give the newcomers an orientation down there?”

“Nope. Not even a flyer for my troubles,” I quipped as I felt Sally's foot hit me in the side of the leg.

Colin gave me the once over yet again, and then said, “I thought you'd be more... well... not you.”

I shrugged, as I answered, “I get that a lot.”

This prompted Sally to interrupt us. “James?” she reminded Colin.

“He's not here,” confirmed Colin.

“Where is he, then?” she demanded.

Colin answered her question with another, “Why do you need to know?”

“I've been trying to call him all week, and haven't been able to get through.”

Colin gave her a smile that was both sympathetic and condescending all at once as he said, “My dear, Sally. James is a busy man. You can't really expect him to answer the calls of every love struck puppy who chases after him.”

“It's not like that!” Sally snapped. “I've been working with him on coven related business. He was supposed to smooth some static between us and another group, but he no-showed. I'm trying to get some answers.”

“When was all this supposed to happen?” Colin asked, starting to type again.

“Beginning of the week.”

“Ah, that makes sense, then,” he answered whilst looking at his monitor. “He was called away on business, unexpectedly, I'm afraid.”

“What kind of business?” Sally again demanded.

“The kind that's none of yours,” was his reply. Damn, he was a snarky little fucker.

“Cut the shit, Colin,” Sally warned.

Colin scoffed, “Or what? You'll sick
him
on me?”

Sally seemed to consider this for a moment and then said, “Well, he is the Freewill. I'm sure you've heard the rumors.”

“Oh, please, as if I believed half of that garbage.”

“James believes it,” Sally pointed out.

“Sorry, love, but just because I work for him doesn't mean I drink the same Kool-Aid he does.”

I was really hoping the next words out of Sally's mouth weren't going to revolve around ordering me to kick this guy's ass. Regardless of my chances at doing so, we were in a building full of all sorts of god knows what. I really didn't want them to suddenly all descend upon me just because Sally's panties were in a bunch.

Before she could respond, however, Colin added, “Apparently Jeff doesn't believe it either.”

“Jeff? How do you know that?” Sally asked.

“He called not an hour ago. I haven't heard a peep from you SoHo coveners in months, and suddenly, bam, you're crawling all over me like fire ants. Interesting coincidence, isn't it?”

“What did he want?” Sally asked, sounding perhaps a bit more frantic than she had meant to.

“Same thing as you.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Remember what I said before about none of your business? Same principle applies. You needn't concern yourself with the conversations of beings above your pay grade.”

She let out what sounded like a sigh of exasperation and then said, “Come on, Colin. If he sent me here in person, then
obviously
he trusts me to relay the info back to him.”

“Why does it matter if I potentially already told him what he wanted to know?” he slyly asked.