The Tome of Bill Compendium Vol. 1 (Books 1-4) (21 page)

By the time class was over, I felt I had learned a lot...as in a lot of different ways to take a punch and a lot of different ways to fall to the floor. Missing Sheila had broken my heart. Attending this class had broken the rest.

Screw that whole nocturnal predator thing. By the time I was done and had gotten back home, all I wanted to do was down a few pints (
of both blood and beer
) and go to bed. Ed was still awake when I walked in the door. I grunted “hello” and proceeded to the fridge to make good on my plan of action. I grabbed my libations and was shambling to my bedroom when I heard him say, “Someone left a message for you on the machine. I think it was that Sally chick.”

Unfortunately, I couldn't have cared less. I muttered something unintelligible in return, which might have sounded like “Bitch,” and then closed my door behind me.

Up until class ended on Tuesday night, things had been similar to the day before: work, then a trip to Queens, followed by two hours of being crippled in new and interesting ways. A couple more decades of this, and I might learn to like it...maybe.

As the rest of the students were leaving, the Sensei called me over to give me a
motivational
pep talk. This talk more or less consisted of him praising me for being able to take a hit better than any other novice he'd ever taught. Wow, I guess karate really is all about self-esteem, after all. Needless to say, it was all I could do to resist sinking my teeth into this guy on principle alone.

I finally excused myself, murder still on my mind, and started walking the few blocks to where I could grab the bus back home. I was almost there when I heard a sound behind me. Turning to check it out, I was met with rough hands grabbing the front of my jacket. Before I could pry them off, they slammed me hard into the side of a nearby building. The blow knocked the wind out of me for a second (
probably not helped by the fact that my body was working overtime to take care of all the bruises I had received in the prior hour
). When I finally looked up, there was a pair of angry-looking eyes staring right into mine.

I was not in the mood for this shit, so I shoved back. Thanks to my vampiric strength, the space between me and my attacker immediately widened. Now that my view wasn't as obscured, I could see that there were two of them. The one I had just pushed off me was a large African American with a shaved head. A smaller Latino-looking gang banger stood a few feet behind him. I was hoping they'd be more interested in harassing a victim who was less likely to fight back. Just in case that didn't work, I figured they might be even more inclined to favor a human victim. I opened my mouth and extended my fangs in front of them. Both of them chuckled in response...not quite the reaction I was going for.

“Motherfucker thinks he's scary,” said the large one. He looked at his companion for a second and then they both turned back toward me with their own fangs bared. Oh, crap.

“You guys are vampires, too?” I asked incredulously. I hadn't seen these vamps before. I mean, I was sure there were other vampires than my coven out there. I just hadn't expected to run into them on the street.

“We got us a fucking genius here,” said the Latino one.

“Not that smart,” growled the other. “Thinks he can fuck with the HBC and walk right the fuck out of here.”

“HBC?” I asked sheepishly.

“Howard Beach Coven, asshole. (Oh,
okay then.
) You should know, since you decided to get all up in our shit.”

“Hold on, guys,” I said, raising my hands in a placating manner. “Sorry. I didn't know this was your turf. I'm from this coven over in SoHo...”

“You're from Village Coven?” asked the Latino, grinning. “You don't look like you fit in with all them Kens and Barbies. They keeping you as a pet, or something?” That caused both him and his large companion to laugh for a moment.

“Listen. It's cool, guys,” I pleaded. “Like I said, I didn't know this was your turf. I'll be more than happy to just leave.”

I started to back away and the big one got in my face again. “Fuck our turf,” he spat. “The other week we started hearing rumors that Village Coven recruited themselves some kind of freak. Then last night, Tito and Big Mike got their asses ashed. Now we find you here pretending to be a little lost puppy. Seem like a coincidence to you, Roberto?”

The smaller one, Roberto, I presume, shook his head. “I don't believe in coincidence.”

“Neither do I,” said the larger one, starting to advance upon me.

“Come on, guys,” I tried to sound as friendly and non-threatening as possible. “Do I look like I could just waltz in here and kill two of your friends?”

“Don't know. Been hearing some strange shit lately. If any of it's true...”

“If it's true, then why would I come back?” I asked, not really liking where this was going.

“Maybe you're stupid,” said Roberto.

Okay, these guys were obviously spoiling for a fight. I don't know what happened to their friends, but they seemed hell bent on taking it out on me or any other innocent vampire (
were there other innocent vampires?
) that happened to cross their path. I could only think of one other option. It would either get me out of this mess or dig me a lot deeper into the shit I was already in.

I stopped backing away and held my ground, attempting to change my whole demeanor in the process. I willed away the weaseling and instead broadcast (
or tried to, anyway
) a calm grin toward the two in front of me, as I addressed the big one directly.

“Well, then, if I took out two of your buddies, what makes you think I can't take out you and your girlfriend, here?”

He stopped, indecision on his face. Apparently, El Gigante here wasn't used to someone half his size throwing a challenge into his face. I had to keep pushing it. When you're staring down an alpha dog, whoever blinks first loses.

I took a casual step forward, still trying to think quickly as I said, “Tito and Big Mike, you say? Based on the way they went out, I would have thought their names were the
screaming bitch twins
. So, how about you, big guy?” Another step forward. “Are you a screamer?” (
Was I really saying this?
)

“Yo, man...” Roberto started, but I cut him off.

“Shut the fuck up, you little Chihuahua,” I snarled. Oh, yeah, if this didn't work, I was going to be in for an epic level ass beating.

I saw the big guy tense up. Oh, shit! They were going to take their chances. Fortunately, my unexpected (
to me, as well
) aggressiveness appeared to be doing a job on their overall confidence. As a result, the larger one telegraphed his punch from a mile away. I acted fast and did the only thing I could think of to avoid a face full of fist.

As he started to swing at me, I stepped inside of the punch and latched my arms around him. Before I could think about what I was about to do (
and psych myself out of it
), I clamped my teeth onto the side of his neck and bit down with everything I had. Yeah, this was pretty fucked up, believe me.

I held on for dear life as blood started gushing from the wound I had just opened. I once again buried my teeth into his neck and kept biting. As I did so, his blood poured into my mouth and down my throat. Whoa! And here I thought human blood was a rush. The vampire's blood burned as it went down, but it was more a fine Scotch than hot coals burning. It hit my stomach with what felt like a jolt of electricity. I already had him in a death grip, but somehow I felt my arms grabbing him even more tightly. I don't know what his blood was doing to me, but I felt freaking amped. Forget those espressos James favored;
this
was the shit.

I felt hands pummeling my back and trying to gain purchase to pull me off; however, when someone is clinging to you like a new suit, it's a little hard to get any leverage to pry them away. Add in a bunch of gushing blood and I was now a slippery suit as well. Unfortunately, it was that train of thought that once more brought me out of my bloodlust. “So here you are...all lubed up and sucking on
another
guy,” I heard the voice in the back of my head say. Sometimes my subconscious can be such an asshole.

Still, judging by the fading strength of the big guy's struggles, I had probably taken the fight out of him. I figured I should turn my attention to Roberto, just in case he decided to do something cute...like maybe come up from behind and rip my spine out. I pulled back from the goon's still-gushing neck and gave him a shove. Hot damn, I really
was
juiced. My push sent him flying back a good ten feet to land in a heap in the middle of the street. This guy must have been over two hundred and fifty pounds and I just dumped his ass like he was little more than ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag.

The big dude out of the way for the moment, I turned my attention toward Roberto, but I needn't have concerned myself. He was still rooted to the same spot, a look of abject horror on his face. I grinned at him and took a step forward.

He just kept looking back and forth between me and his buddy. “No way, man,” he muttered. “No fucking way!” and with that, his nerve broke. He turned tail and took off down the street, his friend forgotten. What a pussy. I mean, I was sure I had surprised the hell out of them, but it's not like they'd never seen someone's throat get bitten before. Not that I was complaining, mind you. I didn't have to worry anymore about watching my own back. I wasn't sure I'd continue to get lucky, but at least the odds were even now.

Speaking of which, I spun back toward the vamp I had bitten. He was already getting back to his feet. Not too surprising. If I could eat pavement from a third story nosedive and get back up, I was sure this guy could easily take as much, if not more, considering he was built like a truck.

He stood up, one hand to the wound on his neck. I prepared myself for his inevitable charge, mentally debating between standing my ground and cutting my losses and running. The latter was looking to be the tastier option. I'm not entirely delusional. In an all out fistfight between computer geek and street thug, I know which one I'd put my money on. I was ahead on points so far, but if this guy managed to get his hands on me, he'd probably snap me like a toothpick.

As it turns out, though, I was much further ahead on the scorecard than I had thought. His eyes were wide with fear...actual fear (
Roberto had been a fairly small guy, but this one looked like he ate dorks like me for breakfast
).

“What the hell are you?” he gasped.

Fortunately, the small part of my brain where all my machismo resides was ready and waiting for that question. “Me?” I grinned, showing my teeth, “I'm
Dr. Death
.”

To my great surprise (
and relief
), his response to my introduction was to mirror his friend and take off down the street. I must’ve been getting better with the one-liners.

And then it hit me...I had won. I had actually won. No way would my roommates believe it. Hell,
I
barely believed it. I felt my knees go rubbery and I plopped down onto the curb. My head was still swimming, although whether from adrenaline or the other vampire's blood, I wasn't sure - probably a little of both. But damn, I felt good. If ever there was a time I wished I had the theme from
Rocky
on my phone, this was it.

The problem with elation, though, is that reality always has to go and stick its nose into things. So, after a few moments of basking in my own greatness (
a rare enough event
), I remembered that here I was, sitting at eleven p.m. on a curb in the middle of Queens, absolutely drenched in blood. The first conditions were easy enough to fix. It was that latter one which would probably present a bit of a problem. Bus drivers tended to frown upon their riders being all bloody. If this was going to start becoming a habit, I might have to make it a point to go everywhere in a rain slicker.

Any way I looked at things, I couldn't stick around where I was. Who was to say that the two vamps I had just chased off wouldn't be returning with reinforcements? I smiled at the irony. Earlier, I had let my imagination run wild at the dangers of this area. Now I actually found myself with a real reason to fear these streets.

That brought up the little issue of getting home. Mass transit, as well as cabs, was out of the question. Getting a ride without having the cops immediately called on me would be asking for a near miracle, and I had a feeling I was all out of those for the day. I could hoof it. My weekend with Jeff had proven I was capable of some pretty remarkable speed. The problem with that idea was that it was a good ten miles to get home, much further than I had ever even considered running during my life. Also, fast or not, a direct trip home would entail traversing several crowded streets. That left the alternative, several detours, which would add a ton of time to my trip. I stood up and sighed, resolved that I would be getting home pretty damn late.

* * *

On that last note, I was fortunately wrong. A few minutes into my trek, I came across a park with a working fountain. One quick dive later and the worst of the mess was taken care of. I didn't look great, but looking dirty was better than looking like an axe murderer.

About a mile later, I was able to flag a cab. Pretending to be drunk, I let the cabbie gouge me a bit by taking the scenic route home. I had him drop me off about half a mile from my apartment (
which my paranoid mind said should be a safe distance
), and made it a point to tip him well. I ran full speed back to my place from there. If anyone suspected anything, they'd take one look at me and immediately discount my ability to move from point A to point B as quickly as I did. I sure as hell didn't look like a long distance sprinter.