Tome of Bill (Companion): Shining Fury (23 page)

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Authors: Rick Gualtieri

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BOOK: Tome of Bill (Companion): Shining Fury
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I envied what he had with his friends, yearned to be a part of it, but also realized it might not be possible.

But if that was not to be, I would survive.

I was the last defender of humanity, and it was time I had the faith in myself that others did.

It would be enough.

It had to be.

THE END

 

Sheila O’Connell and Bill Ryder will return in

THE LAST COVEN
(The Tome of Bill, part 8)

Can’t wait for more Bill? Follow his ongoing misadventures on Facebook at

www.facebook.com/BilltheVampire

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.

Defilers beware!

Rick Gualtieri is the author of:

Bill the Vampire
(The Tome of Bill - 1)

Scary Dead Things
(The Tome of Bill - 2)

The Mourning Woods
(The Tome of Bill - 3)

Holier Than Thou
(The Tome of Bill - 4)

Sunset Strip
: A Tome Of Bill Series Companion

Goddamned Freaky Monsters
(The Tome of Bill - 5)

Half A Prayer
(The Tome of Bill - 6)

The
Wicked Dead
(The Tome of Bill - 7)

Shining Fury
: A Tome Of Bill Series Companion

The Tome of Bill Series: Volume One

Bigfoot Hunters

The Poptart Manifesto

To contact Rick (with either undying praise or rude comments) please visit:

Rick’s Website
:

www.rickgualtieri.com

Facebook Page
:

www.facebook.com/RickGualtieriAuthor

Twitter
:

www.twitter.com/RickGualtieri

 

BONUS CHAPTER

THE LAST COVEN

The Tome of Bill, Part 8

With The Destroyer dead, I thought things would get better. I was wrong and on so many different fronts too. Go figure.

If my world was a horse race, forget about simply losing. It would be as if I’d put my life savings on a nag whose jockey then pulled a gun and shot it dead in the gate.

All of these thoughts and more passed through my mind as I patiently waited for the gunfire to finally stop. “Jeez. How many fucking bullets do these assholes have?”

“They’re not assholes,” Sheila chided, crouching behind the barrier with me despite her aura being impervious to the gunfire. “They’re probably just scared.”

“Can we maybe meet halfway and agree that they’re scared assholes?”

Had her return glare been weaponized, it would have easily cut me to pieces.

I probably deserved it, too.

After everything we’d been through, I was still keeping secrets from her. I kept telling myself they weren’t my secrets to tell, but that didn’t make me feel much better about it. That we’d both been a bit frosty with each other ever since she reappeared just in time to save my ass from a beat-down by Alex – the former mightiest vampire on the planet – likewise didn’t seem to be helping.

Still, I’d hoped that after some food, maybe a shower, and definitely some sleep that maybe everything would ... hah! Would what? Get back to normal?

Normal was about as far from my reality as it could get these days. Hell, there was a good possibility that what I used to consider “normal” would never grace my life again.

Hilariously, I wasn’t even sure I wanted it to.

Part of the reason why was on my other side, just itching to return fire.

“This would be a lot easier if we shot back.” Sally casually polished the muzzle of the ridiculously oversized handgun against her jacket, as if bullets weren’t currently ricocheting all around us. I guessed that at some point she’d raided Boston’s armory and managed to procure one of her weapon of choice, a bigass Desert Eagle.

“No!” Sheila turned toward us and paused, her eyes dropping to Sally’s weapon for a long moment. She was probably thinking the same thing I was: talk about fucking overkill. “We’re here to help these people. Reassure them that the threat is over. That they no longer have to fear their loved ones being dragged off into the night.”

“And who better to convince them than a bunch of weirdos wandering the streets after dark?” I commented.

Sheila’s aura flared up, and I scooted back until I bumped into Sally … who unceremoniously shoved me away. “Personal space, dickhead.”

And yet I’d been happy, for God knows some reason, when she’d gotten her memories restored.

Sheila reeled her aura back in before it could incinerate me. “We’re out here after dark because
you
insisted on coming along.”

Oh yeah, that.

* * *

Following the fight with Vehron and subsequent escape by Calibra, AKA Ib the first vampire, we’d been stuck in a bit of a quagmire.

While we had some idea as to the place she’d gone, we had no clue where exactly it was or how to follow her there. And following her was smack dab at the top of our priority list. Calibra hadn’t been content to leave on her own. The stone-aged bitch had kidnapped my roommate Ed along with James, Gan, my fucking DM Dave, and nearly everyone else who’d been in the Boston complex at the time. Some people just had to make a big exit.

Christy and her coven sisters were trying to work on tracking Calibra, but that had left the rest of us to plant our thumbs squarely up our asses until then.

Sitting and waiting was simply out of the question. There was too much to do and I had far too much on my mind. Sadly, if this place ever had a functional wet bar to bide the time in, it had been emptied out prior to our arrival.

Turns out I hadn’t been the only one who was antsy to do something.

The Templar who’d come up to Boston with Sheila had opted to return to the city streets. They wanted to assess the damage Vehron had done during his rule here, while also doing what they could to help anyone in need.

Though they professed their reasons were entirely altruistic in nature, I had a feeling part of it was not wanting to wait around in the former – and future if Alex was to be believed – vampire stronghold of the northeast. Oddly enough, despite the Templar being humorless shitheads of the highest caliber, it was one area where we kind of saw eye to eye.

That aside, anything beat sitting around waiting for others to figure out our next steps. So I’d approached Sheila with some of my own thoughts on helping out, and maybe partially to try to break the ice a bit between us. The Templar could hand out sandwiches wrapped in Bible tracts during the day, but the night probably required a slightly different approach. There were quite possibly still minions of Ib about, as well as the zombies that had previously been employed as day labor by the Boston vamps. They’d been set loose after Vehron had taken over and had apparently gone feral.

Even if those dangers weren’t still out there – a big if in a city the size of Boston – the world was still teetering on the brink of Armageddon. Once the sun set, chaos ruled. Predators roamed the night, some human, many decisively not. Vehron’s defeat had left a power vacuum, one that wouldn’t be filled until the vampire nation could reassert control. It was a safe bet that something else would try to fill that void in the meantime. I figured I could help dissuade whatever that something might be.

Sheila had agreed with my reasoning and, after a measured pause, offered to accompany me. Score one! I’d been hoping maybe it would give us a chance to talk. Our last conversation had ended with a nasty reminder that she and I were once again destined to duke it out in the main event to decide the world’s fate. Maybe it was crazy of me, but that sounded like something that was worth at least a brief chat.

Much to my surprise, though, Sally had cock-blocked that thought. She caught up to us right before we left and volunteered to tag along.

She claimed boredom, but her eyes said otherwise. Though her mannerisms weren’t out of the ordinary, I got the feeling that even though she was back to being her old self, she also wasn’t. The way she’d acted upon her memories being returned had stayed with me. Her tone and demeanor had been apologetic, afraid – in short, decisively not Sally.

Alex had fucked with her mind but good. Yet another in a long string of incidents I owed that asshole for, with interest piling up daily. That a truce had been called between him and us probably didn’t mean much to either party involved.

None of that was really all that helpful for our current situation, though. We’d been out for a couple of hours. Aside from a legless zombie we’d found in an alleyway, it had been slow. Slow and awkward, actually, with little more than small talk passing between us. Truth be told, it was starting to creep me out.

Not exactly the dream date my subconscious insisted our threesome would be.

I’d almost rejoiced aloud when the sound of a heated argument caught my ears, drifting through the open window of a nearby brownstone. Needless to say, my enthusiasm had waned ever so slightly once the bullets started flying.

* * *

We’d walked over to investigate only for an angry face to peer out one of the ground floor windows at our approach. “Who the fuck are you?” he’d called. The question was given extra emphasis by a gun barrel pointing out the window at us.

Sheila’s aura had sprung to life in response. Not surprising, but perhaps not the best move as the look on the man’s face quickly turned to one of surprise and panic.

His cry of, “it’s one of those freaks!” had been shortly followed by a hail of lead.

Thank goodness there’d been some concrete pilings in the lot next door, an abandoned construction effort of some sort, or Sally and I would have ended the night picking bullets out of each other’s ass. Kinky, but not quite a fetish I could claim to be into.

“So are we just going to sit here all night?” Sally asked.

“Oh I don’t know,” I replied. “It is a rather lovely evening.”

She rolled her eyes in disgust and looked past me at Sheila. “You’re the last defender of humanity. So do something before these fucktards need defending.” As if to emphasize her point, she popped out the magazine of her gun and checked it once before popping it back in.

The two locked eyes for a moment, glaring at each other as if I wasn’t even there, until Sheila broke contact first and gave a single nod.

Before she could do anything, though, the gunfire ceased and we were addressed.

“The whole neighborhood knows you freaks are there,” the man called to us.

“No shit,” I whispered.

“If you want to live to see the next five minutes, throw any weapons out and then stand up. Nice and slow, and I’d better not see anything weird.”

“I think he means…”

“I know what he means,” Sheila hissed at me. She took a deep breath and the glow around her faded away.

“Yeah, well, fuck that shit.” Sally said. “If this asshole thinks we’re going to stand up and give him free potshots at us he’s…” She trailed off and cocked her head to the side.

“Finally realized the point of all of this wasn’t a killing spree?” I asked.

“No, stupid,” she snapped. “Listen.”

That was easier said than done with my ears still ringing. It was probably only a matter of seconds before Doc Holliday in there decided to go all O.K. corral on us again, but I tried anyway.

Sally was right. Footsteps. No, not just footsteps … feet marching in rhythm, a lot of them.

“What’s wrong?” Sheila asked.

“We’re not alone,” I said, a moment before I turned my head to either side and saw a column of men double-timing it toward us from either side of the street. Cops in riot gear from the looks of it. About half of them were armed with assault rifles while the rest...

Wait.
Definitely
not cops. Their uniforms were unmarked, completely black. Also, unless I’d missed something, silver stakes weren’t standard issue for police.

Their scent registered with me a moment before my brain processed all of this. Vampires.

They quickly encircled us, but from a distance – no doubt well aware that getting too close to the Icon was a bad way to end one’s night. Their weapons were at the standby, but the meaning was clear. They could turn us into Swiss cheese before we could so much as scratch our asses.

One of them stepped forward toward the house, hands raised.

“Please stand down. We have the situation under control.”

“I don’t want any trouble,” the man called from inside, his voice finally cracking and betraying the fear beneath.

“And I can assure you that neither do we,” a voice answered from behind the line of vamps.

Oh no. Not him!

“Son of a bitch,” Sally spat, lowering her weapon.

The line of armed vampire guards parted to reveal a familiar greasy countenance draped in an overpriced suit.

Colin smiled as he approached. Etched upon his face was a look of utmost smugness, one which had me wishing his men had opened fire on us instead.

Surely that would have been the kinder fate.

* * *

THE LAST COVEN

Coming soon!

 

 

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