The Tome of Bill Compendium Vol. 1 (Books 1-4) (35 page)

So there I was unwinding when Tom came in the door. Both of my roommates, Tom and Ed, are human. Kind of makes us a less attractive, but significantly more fucked-up version of
Three’s Company
. Anyway, he had spent the weekend at his parents’ home in New Jersey (
also home to his slightly underage hottie of a sister, which has really nothing to do with the present situation. I just like to mention it
) and then gone straight to his job in Manhattan, so I had no idea he had anything planned for me. If I had, I probably would have been elsewhere.

“I’ve got something new we can try,” he excitedly said after tossing his sports jacket into the closet. I didn’t even need to ask what he meant by that. I’d been turned into a vampire some six months prior, and ever since then my roommates had made it their mission in life to chart my powers and weaknesses. It was mostly the weaknesses they seemed to focus on, and thus, in addition to friends, I had to add
torturers
to the mental description I kept for both of them. Barely a week went by in which they didn’t come up with some new scheme that involved stabbing, burning, or crushing me. My pain had become their hobby. Yeah, they both really needed to get laid.

“What now?” I asked in a bored tone, hoping it might dissuade him.

“This,” he pulled an old fork out of his pocket.

“Let me guess, you misunderstood my previous instructions and are now going to
fork
yourself?”

“Keep trying, Bill,” he dryly remarked. “In another century or two, you might grow a sense of humor that’s actually funny. For your information, this here is not just a fork. It’s silverware...you know, as in
silver
.”

“So? You guys already tried silver. It didn’t do jack-shit.”

“Yeah, I know. But forget about that. That shitty letter opener was just silver plated. I didn’t really think it would work anyway.”

“And yet,” I put an edge to my voice, “it didn’t stop you from stabbing me with it...
repeatedly
.”

“Sorry. All in the name of science,” he continued. “But this is different, trust me. This weekend, my Mom had some friends over, and she pulled out the good stuff. She inherited it from her grandmother. This is the real deal here. Pure, solid, you-could-melt-it-down-and-shoot-werewolves-with-it silver.”

“So let me get this straight: you stole your mom’s prized silverware?”

“Borrowed is more like it,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with taking a little advance on my inheritance...especially in the name of research.”

“You know there’s probably a special room in Hell reserved just for you, right?”

“As long as it has air conditioning, then I’m cool with it,” he answered. “Now hold still. This might sting a bit.”

I don’t know why I let him. Maybe I
was
getting used to it or maybe I was just tired from the day’s work (
vampires and normal work hours don’t mesh too well under the best of circumstances
). More than likely, though, I just knew that he’d get me eventually. Even if I flat out told him “No!” now, he’d probably just wait and then stab me in the neck the second I stopped paying attention. Thus, whatever the insane reason, I held still as he jammed the damn thing into me.

“Well?” he asked, the fork sticking out the back of my hand. Small drops of blood started welling up around the tines.

“Well, it fucking hurts. Pull it out!”

“Give it a sec.”

“Now...OW!” I cried as first smoke and then sparks started shooting out of the small puncture wounds.

“Holy shit, it worked! I knew it!” he exclaimed, all while watching the skin of my hand start to char and turn black.

In response I just glared and bared my fangs.

After a moment or two he finally got the hint. “Oh, sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile before finally yanking the accursed cutlery out.

Goddamn, that was painful. The bleeding and burning were bad enough, but it also felt like there was a small legion of coal miners under the skin of my hand, hacking away with dull pickaxes. All in all, a dandy load of fun.

* * *

What had happened to me then was repeating itself within Samuel, albeit in a slightly more central location. As much as I had wanted to punch out Tom’s lights at the time, I had to grudgingly admit that this one might be a keeper. Further (
reluctant
) testing had shown two other interesting side effects. For starters, silver was safe to the touch for me. I was able to hold and even eat with it. Yeah, that eating part took some convincing by Tom, but he’s nothing if not persistent. Whatever its effect, it apparently only happened when in contact with vampire blood - kind of like dropping a magnesium flare into a pool of water.

Even better, albeit worse for me at the time, was that something in the silver retarded my enhanced healing. Instead of a few minutes, it took all night for my hand to get back to normal. So it stood to reason that even if Samuel managed to pry loose the fork, which was rapidly turning his back into something akin to a roman candle, it was going to be a while before he felt good about it.

Blinded by both rage and pain, Samuel more or less lost it. He screamed inarticulately and began spinning around, attempting to get at the source of his pain, as his back continued to be engulfed in flames. He plowed into and through another wall, but the fork was stuck fast.

This was my chance, and I wasn’t about to let it go. I picked up another plank of wood from the rubble, then snapped it in half over my knee, making sure one of the pieces ended in a nice, sharp point. It would make a dandy makeshift stake.

“Form blazing sword, motherfucker!” I shouted as I charged to finish him off. Yeah, I needed to work on my one-liners. Apparently, I still had to work on not being a cocky dickhead either. Aflame or not, my dorky catchphrase managed to catch Samuel’s attention. As I closed in, stake held high, he caught me on the chin with an uppercut that sent me flying.

It’s one thing to be hit; quite another to be caught square on the jaw. It’s like time stops for a few moments. During those seconds, there’s a disconnect between the mind and body. The mind can still be semi-rational, even a little detached.
Well, that was certainly a good shot, wasn’t it? Perhaps we should respond in kind
, your brain might be thinking. Unfortunately, the body won’t be quite as coherent. While the mind is carrying on a casual discourse, as if discussing last night’s ball game, the body is flopping about, trying to find a comfy spot on the floor to land.

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t even have that luxury. When a vampire like Samuel catches you dead center, you go flying. The hit was bad enough, but the old adage about falling applied here, too. Nobody dies from the fall itself, but the landing is a bitch. The same principle applies when you’re hurtling through the air as if you’ve just been shot out of a cannon.

I had just enough time to register all of this when I slammed into what felt like...you guessed it...another wall. The impact was enough to scatter any rational thoughts of the battle I was currently losing and fling me into a nice, comfy little flashback regarding how I had gotten into this mess to begin with.

* * *

Things hadn’t been all wine and roses since I had taken over the coven from the previous leader, Jeff, AKA Night Razor. I had defeated him in fair combat, or so the story went. In actuality, another vampire, Sally, had been the one to finish him off. She was the vamp originally responsible for luring me to my own death and subsequent turning to the
dark side
; however, soon after, she had a change of heart and decided to help me out instead. After the fight with Jeff, she had even given me credit for the deed, allowing me to take over his position.

Before you start getting all soppy over this, though, let me point out that Sally isn’t exactly the altruistic sort. Everything I’ve ever seen her do ultimately seems to be for her own benefit. So, too, was my becoming coven leader. She quickly established herself as my partner behind the scenes.
Partner
apparently having the same meaning to her as Fidel Castro telling his fellow Cubans that they were all comrades. In her mind, she was definitely first amongst equals.

My troubles from the start were two-fold. Internally, I had to control a bunch of immortal killers in fashion model guise, all of whom were older than me. Originally, I had some delusions of trying to run a bloodless coven. Vampire or not, I’m not too big on treating normal people like they were snacks in a vending machine. Sadly, most of my undead brethren, Sally included, were not of the same mindset. I was instead forced to keep the killing contained as well as I could, which meant getting creative; however, even my best efforts couldn’t lessen their bloodlust - which was partially the reason why I found myself in the middle of a vampire turf war.

The second part of my problems was the HBC. They claimed Queens as their territory, and normally there wouldn’t have been an issue between our two covens. Unfortunately, within a few short weeks of being turned, I found myself number one on their to-kill list.

See, vampires have laws, too, just like everyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure there’s no vampire statute against jaywalking, but there are rules set in place to keep our existence hidden from the general populace. The ruling counsel of vampires, known by the asinine nickname
the Draculas
, hands these dictates down to the masses. The rest of us are expected to follow them, no questions asked. In the vampire rulebook, there’s no such thing as a misdemeanor. You fuck up, and you get made an example of. The HBC fucked up, and somehow I got caught up in it all.

The rumor mill had said that Samuel was recruiting in numbers above the quotas set for regional covens. The vampire in charge of
correcting
their oversight, James, had decided to disguise the culling and give me credit for it in some misguided attempt to increase my reputation as the Freewill of vampire lore. Unfortunately, before he could do damage control and keep things from landing squarely on my head, he was called away on business. From there, things quickly deteriorated.

The HBC vampires thought I was the one responsible for killing their members. Combined with my ascension as the new head of Village Coven, it had caused bad blood to build up quickly between us. Over the next couple months, skirmishes broke out between our two groups. On the one side were vampires who hated me for a crime I didn’t commit, on the other were those eager to find an outlet for the violence I had been trying to curb. All in all, it was an explosive situation.

If they were the gunpowder, though, then the fuse was named Sally. Since my dealings with the coven were mostly limited to the weekends (
due to that little job thing I mentioned earlier
), she was left in charge during the week. I had originally assumed this was for the best, as she was older than I and far better versed in vampire politics. We all know what happens when you assume; however, when you assume with regards to Sally, you can double that ‘make an ass out of me’ part of the deal.

It was she who had proposed the mediation between our two covens. A group from Village Coven led by us would meet with a delegation of HBC vampires led by Samuel to hash out a truce. The meeting place was set at a neutral vampire safe house close to the Brooklyn Navy Yard, which at the very least meant it was an easy commute for me.

Unbeknownst to me, though (
at least up until a short while ago
), was that Sally had purposely staffed our contingent with some of the more violent members amongst our coven. They were just looking for an excuse to do some damage. Combined with Samuel’s group, who were likewise spoiling for a fight, and the talks lasted all of three minutes before the first punch was thrown.

Within the space of a few moments, at least three vampires were reduced to nothing more than ashes. After that, complete chaos descended. I quickly lost track of Sally in the ensuing melee. Then, after I spent a few minutes fighting off random Howard Beach vamps, Samuel caught sight of me.

“
THIS FUCKER’S MINE
!!” he compelled his group. Almost immediately, they all backed off and sought their mayhem elsewhere. Amusingly enough, if I were somewhat older, I probably would have sent out an opposite compulsion toward my group - instructing them to save my ass. But I’m not, and since the vamps that Sally invited from our side weren’t my biggest supporters to begin with, they all had no problems letting the two head honchos battle it out
mano y mano
. Thus began our dance, which so far had consisted of Samuel bouncing me off various hard surfaces, broken up by the occasional, much less impressive return shot from me.

* * *

Oh yeah, speaking of hard surfaces, I managed to shake off the impact I had just taken and clear my thoughts. I must have only been dazed for a moment or two because I happily noticed my head was still attached to the rest of my body. Lucky me, as I looked up just in time to see Samuel’s still blazing form leap across the room toward my prone self.

Just for the record, things like that may work in the movies. Hell, they still look pretty damn cool even in real life. From a practical standpoint, though, they’re kind of dumb to try. I mean, I’m not exactly a Navy Seal, and even I know that while in mid-air not only are you obviously telegraphing where you’re headed, but it’s a bit hard to change tactics in case your intended target decides to take countermeasures.

And I was certainly going to be using said countermeasures, especially since I wasn’t entirely endeared with the concept of being crushed beneath two-hundred and seventy pounds of burning vampire love. I managed to pull up my knees and get my legs underneath him as he landed on me. I kicked out and sent him back in the direction he had come from. He may not have flown as far as I had from his hit, but fly he did.