The Tome of Bill Compendium Vol. 1 (Books 1-4) (133 page)

There I’ll be, miserable for centuries. Then one day, maybe three-hundred years from now, I’ll be strolling through Starfleet Academy and notice a girl who’s the spitting image of Sheila. At that point I’ll think that maybe fate has given me a second chance. I’ll make plans to convince her that she’s the reincarnation of...holy shit! Yeah and maybe change my name to Edward Cullen while I’m at it. Screw that. I’d sooner ram a silver stake through my own crotch than live out some fucked up
Twilight
redux.

Fortunately, Ed spared me any further mental torture when he popped his head in. “Are you two done making goo-goo eyes at each other because I’m starving to death? There isn’t anything to eat here that probably wasn’t begging for mercy not too long ago.”

“What do I look like, fucking Colonel Sanders to you?”

“A white suit and goatee...”

“Your point?”

“My point is that I’m heading out to grab some food.” He turned toward Sheila. “As the only other guest that eats people food and not people, do you want me to bring you back something?”

“Actually, if you don’t mind the company, I think I’ll join you. Just let me freshen up a bit first.”

* * *

It figured, within the next hour, the sky cleared up enough so that errant rays of sunlight shone through. I doubted it would last long, considering the ominous clouds on the horizon and Gan’s assertion this was only a temporary pause in the gathering storm. It was enough, though. To say I was jealous of Ed would be an understatement. Not only could he go out in the daylight with Sheila, but if he was so inclined he could even hold her hand without combusting - not that he should ever even think of trying, at least not if he wanted his ass to stay unkicked.

I had put up a minor protest at the suggestion. After all, did we go through all that crap to rescue her from the Templars (who weren’t exactly holding her prisoner to begin with, but let’s not mince words) just to let her walk out the door unguarded? The others, though, considered the risks to be minimal.

“The witches can’t track her and it’s daylight, so that means no vamps,” Sally said matter-of-factly.

“Wait, but they can track me. So if that’s the case, they might have already zeroed in and...”

“Nope,” she replied with a tone of finality.

“Yeah, they can. We know this already.”

“Not here,” she said proudly, hooking her thumb at one of the marks painted on the walls. I had noticed them the other day, but paid them no heed.

“Yeah, so? Is tribal art making a comeback?”

“That is not art, beloved.” Gan took a good look at them as if for the first time. “If my memory serves me correctly, those are scrying guards. I am impressed,” she said, addressing Sally. “Where did you obtain the knowledge of these?”

“What, no whore comment?” Sally asked.

“I thought it was implied.”

“You little fuc...”

“Yeah, where did you get these?” I interrupted before she could say anything that might encourage Gan to do something more violent than just call her names.

Sally glared at me and gritted her teeth. “James told me about them not too long ago when we were discussing our little wizard problem. He wasn’t sure they’d actually work, but I figured what the hell? Considering this place hasn’t been blown to bits yet, I’m comfortable thinking they’re doing their job.”

“Damn,” I replied. “I need to get a few of those tattooed on me.”

“They do not work that way, beloved,” Gan explained, having come from a culture where mysticism was served as a side dish with supper. “They must be properly grounded to channel the energy back into the earth. The granite beneath this city would act as a perfect conduit for this.”

“You knew that too?” I asked Sally, impressed.

“Well, I might have gotten lucky on that one,” she admitted.

“Are we good here, then?” Ed asked. “As fascinating as this all is, I’d really like to get some calories down my throat.”

I turned to Sheila, “Are you sure? It could still be...”

“It’ll be fine, Bill. We’re in the middle of the city during the day. Aside from getting a little wet if it starts raining again, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Damn, I hate when people say that. It never ends well.

“This isn’t good,” I said, mostly to myself.

“Are you still harping about it?” Sally asked. “They’ve only been gone for half an hour. I’m sure they’re...”

“Not that! I should’ve told Ed to bring me back something. I don’t know about you, but I like a little texture with my blood. More filling that way.”

Sally and I sat in the living room of the safe house. Gan had gone to take a shower after a little incident between her, a blood pack, and the microwave. She might know a shitload more about vampire history than I did, but I took some comfort that I at least knew how to program a remote control. That had to count for something.

Speaking of the remote, Sally and I were watching the news. Apparently they had taken notice of the freak storm and were attempting to make sense of it. The meteorologists were practically creaming themselves trying to come up with theories.
Good luck with that
, I thought. Oh well, at least we seemed to be in the eye of the storm, if that was even applicable. Maybe the extra-dimensional creatures causing the ruckus had decided to break for lunch.

Sheila and Ed must have been having those same thoughts as right then there came a knock on the door.

“Our wayward gourmets return,” I declared, standing up. “Hopefully they brought a little extra.”

“Doubt it,” Sally said. “I’m sure they enjoyed a nice romantic lunch for two.”

“Bite me,” I growled, eliciting a titter of laughter from her. Bitch!

The knocking continued. “Okay, okay!” I shouted. “Relax!” I opened the door, continuing, “Gan’s in the can, so if you got a hold of some bad burritos...”

I trailed off as neither Sheila nor Ed stood in the doorway.

Wide-eyed, I stepped aside as Christy entered, clearly agitated about something.

“I need your help, Bill,” she said. “It’s Tom.”

* * *

“How the hell is she here?” Sally asked, bolting from her chair.

“First things, first,” I replied, closing the door behind Christy. “What about Tom?”

“He’s not...himself.”

“What?” Sally asked. “He finally grew a working frontal lobe?”

Christy ignored her barb and continued, “He’s...it’s hard to explain. But I know one thing for certain: it’s all my fault.”

Before I could question her further, a voice from behind me said, “There are a great many things that are your fault, witch. It is about time you paid for them.”

* * *

Thankfully, I was standing between the two of them, otherwise things could have ended badly right there.

Christy barely had time to utter a surprised, “You!” before Gan was across the room, a blur of motion. I got lucky more than anything else. Acting purely on instinct alone, I threw myself directly into her path. She was faster and stronger, but I had size on my side. We both went down, myself thankfully on top.

I tried to restrain the murderous munchkin, but it was a losing battle. It was like trying to wrestle down an angry badger. It didn’t help that Sally just stood there watching us, a bemused look on her face.

“Gan, stop!” I yelled, still trying to get some leverage over her. “Christy is here...uh...because...”

“The witch is here under truce,” Sally said at last.

“She is?” I asked. “Err, I mean, yeah she is. It would be dishonorable to kill her under such conditions.”

Gan ceased her struggle immediately. She might be in charge of a small empire these days, but she had gotten lessons about honor banged into her head by her father for the last three centuries. She still had a response to it like some sort of small, psychotic Pavlov’s dog.

“You killed my master.”

Oh crap. I had nearly forgotten there was an angry hormonal witch in the room, too. Guess Tom had spilled his guts about Decker. I’d have to remember to
thank
him for that, but first I needed to not die.

I looked up to find Christy surrounded by an angry red glow. Any second now she was going to unleash hellfire at Gan and...oh, will you look at that...I was right in the line of fire. How the hell do I keep finding myself in these situations?

“Christy,” I warned, trying not to sound like I was staring down the barrel of a human-shaped photon torpedo launcher, “the truce goes both ways.”

“But she killed...”

“You came here about Tom. We can’t help him if we’re all dead.”

Thank goodness that seemed to get through to her. The glow around her dissipated and her whole demeanor seemed to deflate. The immediate danger over, I let out a breath. At some point I was going to need to put together a spreadsheet, cross-referencing allies who happened to want each other dead. It would be helpful should I ever decide to host something like a fondue party.

I got off of Gan, moving nice and slow in case she decided that her personal honor could go fuck itself.

When she didn’t do anything more than stand up, I said, “Gan, please go sit over there. Christy, you there,” pointing to spots on opposite sides of the living room.

They did so and I continued. “I’d offer you a drink, but I’m assuming you haven’t developed a taste for O-negative.” The pleasantries taken care of, I got to the point. “What’s wrong with Tom?”

“It’s my fault.”

“I am certain it is.”

“Not now, Gan,” I pleaded. “What’s your fault, Christy?”

“Tom...he’s not in his right mind.”

“And this is surprising, how?” Sally asked.

My eyes opened wide. He had definitely been acting strange earlier. I had assumed that perhaps he...well...was finally growing up. Aside from him being pissed at Ed and I for keeping Sheila’s alternate identity a secret, I was actually kind of proud of him for stepping up. But now... “Go on.”

“I think I’ve been influencing him subconsciously. I didn’t mean to, but I’ve been so scared and upset and...”

“Hormonal?” Sally offered.

“Yes, that. Back when I first learned I was a witch, my power would occasionally flare up, but I was a teenager then. I learned control and it hasn’t happened in a long time, but I think maybe...no, that’s not fair. I
know
it’s been happening. I’ve been projecting all of my fears like a beacon.”

“What’s that you always say, Bill?” Sally asked. “The Force lets you control weak minds.”

“Sally...” I warned.

Christy just ignored her, though, and went on. “Then, after I heard from my sisters that the Icon was alive, I got even worse. I didn’t mean to, Bill. Hell, I didn’t know she’d be so...nice.”

“It’s okay, Christy,” I said soothingly, despite a stress migraine building behind my eyes. “Explain.”

“Preferably in small words,” Sally added. Apparently her attitude had grown back along with her skin.

“I think I’ve been brainwashing Tom without being aware of it. Everything I’ve had in me, all my fears, worries, thoughts about our relationship...it’s all been emptying into him.”

I nodded. “I’ll admit he did seem a little...off. Still, he wasn’t acting all that strange. He looked like he had everything under control.”

“He might have, but then things got worse,
a lot
worse.”

* * *

Christy explained how three members of her coven had arrived at our apartment sometime after we left. They had been in pretty dire straits. Apparently Gan’s people had been hunting them through the night and doing a damn good job at it. At one point they had gotten separated from the rest and made a run for it. They had no idea what had become of their sisters, but it didn’t sound like they were hopeful. Having seen Gan’s assassins in action, I wouldn’t have put money on the other witches. They were tired, scared, and their leader was dead. If the assassins hadn’t finished the rest off yet, it probably wouldn’t be long.

That was bad enough, but they had also told Christy about what had befallen Harry Decker - apparently in much greater detail than I had passed on to Tom.

“It was too much for me to handle. I mean, he had raised me like his own child for years. The stress of everything finally caught up to me. I must have fainted. When I finally woke up, my sisters had already left and I found Tom putting his shoes on.”

“What happened?”

“When I passed out I must have had a psychic overload.”

“Directly into Tom’s head,” I surmised.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. He was ranting on about protecting me and our baby. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he kept on rambling. He said he was going to find my sisters so he could tell them about the Icon and where she was hiding.”

“Did he know where to find them?”

“I think so. He mentioned something about the office.”

Oh crap! Forget the mages - he was likely to find a group of unfriendly vamps waiting for him there instead.

“Wait!” Sally interrupted. “How the hell did Tom know where to find
us
?”

“After he left,” Christy explained, “I found a piece of crumpled paper on the table. It had this address on it in your handwriting, Bill.”

“Your handwriting?” Sally asked in that sweet tone that told me she was anything but pleased. “You told that dipshit where this safe house is?”

“I...was worried. I figured if they needed to find us and...”

“Blow the shit out of us?”

“Not quite what I intended.”

“Your intentions have paved an entire super fucking highway to Hell, you know that?” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration.

I tried my best to ignore her. Despite the clusterfuck that things had turned into, I was quite impressed with Christy.

“And despite everything, you still came here to warn us?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I already told you, I don’t believe that you’re purposely trying to kill anyone.”

“That is where you are wrong, witch,” Gan interjected. “My beloved shall be the death of this world.”

“Thanks, Gan. Any chance you could maybe...oh I don’t know...not help?”

“I only speak of your fate. What does it matter if others know of it? Destiny cannot be changed.”