The Tome of Bill Compendium Vol. 1 (Books 1-4) (6 page)

As he sank to my level, I looked him in the eye and quipped, “I am the terror that flaps in the night, motherfucker!” Yeah, it sounded a lot cooler in my head than out loud, but in a stressful situation you take whatever you can get.

I shoved the asshole to the side and made a break for it before the crowd could react. There were too many vamps off to the right where the door was, so I made a dash straight ahead.

The only one standing in my way from that direction was the LL Bean model. As I approached, he smiled at me and then just stepped aside with a quick bow and an “after you” gesture. I distinctly heard him chuckle, “Good luck,
Darkwing Duck,”
as I passed.

Since the door was out of the question, that left only the window. Normally, diving off the third floor of a building might have given me pause, seeing how there's that whole dying in a messy splatter thing at the end. But that was before. Now I was beyond death. Nothing could stop me. I would swoop out the window on wings of darkness. I would become insubstantial like the wind. I would...*CRASH!*

I would realize that flying was apparently
not
one of my new powers. Goddamn it. Once more, Hollywood had lied to me. I had just enough time to think
Fuck SoHo!
before I slammed into the sidewalk below and all went black.

I was only out for a few moments; at least I think so. Maybe I couldn’t fly, but my new vampire body was, fortunately, a whole lot tougher than my old non-vampire one. I don't know about you, but trading a pulse for the ability to shake off a thirty-foot face plant onto concrete doesn't sound like too bad of a deal to me. Unfortunately, those few moments of blissful unconsciousness were enough to erase any lead I’d built up. I had only a second or two to notice I’d landed in an alley behind the building (
and apparently not awoken any of the neighbors in doing so
) when I felt rough hands grab me by the shoulders and spin me around. Jeff's extremely angry-looking face was right there, and then it wasn't as I doubled over from the force of his fist impacting my stomach.

More hands dragged me to my feet. “This time, hold him.” Jeff raised the stake. The fall and the punch had taken the fight out of me. Realizing there was no way to break free in time to avoid becoming ashtray remnants, I thus did the only thing I could think of - I closed my eyes and hoped it wouldn't hurt much.

“Wait!” a voice from above cried out. When no sensation of impalement came, I chanced opening my eyes a bit. Jeff was standing there, frozen in place, a vein throbbing in his forehead (
how did he do that with no heartbeat?
). He slowly lowered the stake and looked up. I lifted my head to follow his gaze, and saw LL Bean leaning out the window.

“What!?” Jeff shouted to him.

“Bring him back up,” answered my well-groomed benefactor.

“This is none of your concern, Ozymandias.”

“I'm making it my concern. Now, do as I say, and bring him up.”

I had no idea what was going on, but in this pissing contest, the one called Ozymandias apparently had the bigger dick, because Jeff backed down, following the exchange. He lowered the stake and addressed the two thugs holding me.

“Do as he says.” He then glared at me and whispered in a barely audible voice, “This is not over.”

Okay, so I was batting about five hundred. I wasn't a pile of dust, but then again, I was far from free. Still, any reprieve from the reaper was a welcome one, and also meant that another opportunity to escape might present itself.

The goons dragged me, none too gently either, through a back door and up the stairs. I'm not a svelte fellow to begin with, and I wasn't exactly being super helpful toward their effort, nevertheless, I seemed to inconvenience them little more than a bag of groceries might. We quickly made it back to the loft where I was dragged to the center of the apartment and tossed unceremoniously onto the floor.

I looked up to find LL Bean/Ozymandias standing over me with the same bemused grin as he’d worn just before I did my best impression of Greg Louganis diving onto solid concrete. Jeff came charging in the door a few moments later, looking slightly less than overjoyed. Oddly enough, despite the fact that my opinion of his douchebaggyness was growing by the minute, I found my mood closer to matching his. I was finding it hard to enjoy even my momentary reprieve, mainly because I had no freaking clue what Ozymandias' game was. He might be saving my ass, or, for all I knew, he just wanted to kill me himself, for no other reason than to tick Jeff off (
it was rapidly becoming obvious that Jeff's annoyance was his amusement
).

I got back to my feet just as Jeff got into Ozymandias' face. “What's your game? I gave you a chance earlier to take your pick. You declined. That means you let us
finish
the ceremony by our rules.”

In this, at least Ozymandias and I were of the same mind, as we both blurted out, “Ceremony?”

Despite our mutual reply, Jeff ignored me and addressed only Ozymandias. “You know what I mean. We bring them, bite them, judge them, then dust them. Those are the rules I created for this. Don't forget, this is
my
coven.”

I should know better in situations like these (
not that I've been in too many like this
) to just keep my mouth shut, but I don't, so I interrupted him.

“’Scuse me, but aren't covens for witches?” Jeff gave me a look that said he wanted to punt me into next week, but Ozymandias just kept grinning and answered in a casual tone as if we were discussing the weather.

“Who do you think they stole the idea from?”

Jeff ignored this exchange and continued as if I hadn't spoken. “You seem to forget where you are. I rule this coven.”

Ozymandias immediately lost his casual tone and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a dozen degrees. “And
you
forget
your
place. You rule this one little coven. I oversee
all
the covens for this region. You're under my jurisdiction.”

“You've never pulled rank before,” Jeff sputtered, having apparently been put firmly in his place. You go girl...err dude...vampire, or whatever.

“First time for everything.”

“I'll file a complaint with the Draculas.” (
Draculas!?
)

“Go right ahead,” Ozymandias continued with the same icy tone. “I represent the Draculas in the Northeast. Your complaint will just wind up on my desk. It's safe to say that investigating it probably won't be at the top of my priority list.”

Okay, did you follow any of that? Because I sure as shit didn't. But I'm guessing that the guy who didn’t want me immediately dead was higher on the food chain than the guy who did. So far, that seemed like a good thing.

Anyway, back to the two guys who were debating whether I'd live through the night or end up looking like something that was dumped out of a Shop-Vac. The whole exchange seemed to deflate Jeff's sails a bit. He took a breath and composed himself, at least as well as a self-absorbed dickhead can do so.

“Fine. What is it you want?”

“That's better,” Ozymandias adopted his former casual tone. “What I'm decreeing is simple enough. I'm putting this fellow under my protection.”

Cool. I must've impressed him with my badass escape attempt.

“Why would you do that?” Jeff asked.

“Because I find him amusing,” Ozymandias replied. “That's a rare thing around your bunch.”

Okay, so maybe
impressed
wasn't quite the right word.

“Oh, and Jeff...” at this, Jeff's face reddened considerably. “Sorry, I meant
Night Razor,
forgive my rudeness. I'm also decreeing that he's now a part of your coven.” He momentarily turned his head in my direction and said, “Sorry, friend, but, amusing or not, I'm far too busy to babysit.”

“I don't see that you'll have a choice,” Jeff Razor, or whatever the fuck his name was, cut in. “I can't take him. My coven is full. I'd love to make an exception, but as per the Draculas' decrees, I'm maxed out. As their
representative,
I'm sure you wouldn't want to break the very rules you're charged with enforcing.”

“You're quite right. Silly me.” Suddenly, with a swiftness and ferocity that I would never have expected from someone who looked like he just stepped out of a Harvard prep school, Ozymandias spun around and impaled his fist straight through the chest of the unfortunate vampire who happened to be standing closest behind him. The vamp burst into flames even as Ozymandias was still elbow-deep in him. Within a few seconds, all that was left was a little ash clinging to his arm and a stunned (
myself included
) crowd of onlookers. Note to self: do
NOT
fuck with this guy.

He casually dusted himself off and then turned back to Jeff. “Oh, look. It seems you have an opening, after all.”

“You killed Rage Vector!”

“Is that what you called him?” Ozymandias asked with a grin. “Stupid name, if you ask me. Never really liked him much, anyway.”

Another male voice from the back chimed in, “Goddamn it! He owed me fifty bucks.”

“Kindly send the bill to my attention,” Ozymandias continued, his eyes still focused on Jeff. “Anyone else have anything further to add?” Unsurprisingly, he was met with silence. “Good. I thought you might see it my way. As for you,” he turned back toward me, “do you accept inclusion into your sire, Night Razor's, coven, and pledge to abide by his rules? Before you answer, let me just be clear that the alternative is the same fate as your fellow party guests. The Draculas are not fond of uncovened vampires.”

“Is uncovened even a word?” I, for some goddamned stupid reason, blurted out before I could censor myself. I paused for just a heartbeat, mentally berating myself for breaking my “no messing with this guy” rule no more than ten seconds after I made it. I then quickly added, before I found myself a pile of dust, “Err, sorry about that. What I meant to say was, of course, I'll be happy to accept membership.” (
At least until I figure out how to get myself out of this freaking mess
)

“I thought you would.” Then he addressed Jeff again. “Well, it appears to be all settled. Now if we could just make it official. And do hurry. There are only a few hours ‘til daybreak (
guess I was “dead” longer than I thought
) and I'd prefer to spend it in my hotel room.”

Judging by Jeff's glare, he was trying to incinerate us both with his mind. When that didn't happen, though, he took a deep breath and appeared to compose himself...a little at least.

“Gather round, my children, and
esteemed
guest. It is time to welcome a new br...brother in blood into our ranks.”

Since the assembled vamps were already standing around us in a circle (
a circle slightly outside of Ozymandias’ reach, I might add
) there was only a minor shuffling. I guess there was some order or ranking going on, but I couldn't really tell. Can't say I really cared, either. The only thing that mattered at the moment was that I was still alive, in a matter of speaking. Still, I saw no reason to exacerbate the situation by doing something stupid next.

“Uh, so what should I do?” I asked.

Guess that was a bad move, because Jeff practically jumped down my throat. “The initiate...” he hissed, “will be...
SILENT!
”

On that last word, his voice seemed to reverberate inside my entire head. Scratch that. I could feel it in my
bones
. What the fuck? I found myself reeling from the sheer power of it. Even weirder, though, for just a second, I almost felt compelled to obey. Damn, that was pretty fucked up.

Still, for the moment, it seemed like prudent advice, so I zipped it. Jeff, in return, gave me a self-satisfied sneer, a really creepy one too, like he knew something I didn't. Or maybe I was just reading too much into it and it was just another extension of his douchebag nature. Either way, it wasn't doing much to enhance my already low opinion of him. I could probably adjust to being a blood-sucking denizen of the dark, but having to deal with this asshole lording it over me for all of eternity...well, that was going to be a tough pill to swallow.

Jeff continued with his self-important soliloquy. “Does anyone reject our new little brother? Speak now and let your voice be heard.” He paused and glanced around, probably hoping that someone would speak up and point out a couple of good reasons that I needed to have my ass killed. However, all eyes were firmly on Ozymandias. Whatever objections they might have had were very obviously silenced by his earlier example.

“Very well,” Jeff continued as he once more turned to me. “I release you from your earlier compulsion (
whatever the fuck that meant
). You may now speak. Do you accept the assembled as your brothers and sisters?”

Jeez, it's melodramatic shit like this that kept me from joining a frat in college. Not to mention the fact that I seriously doubted I would ever have sisterly thoughts toward any of the assembled babes. But still, in the interest of staying alive, I merely said “yes,” and then shut it again.

“So be it,” he continued. “Since my time of ascension, it has been the tradition of this coven that all new members must cast off their old selves and assume a name more befitting of their station in the after-death. I have been, am now, and shall forever be
Night Razor
(
aka Jeff...so much for casting off old identities
). So, too, must you now forsake your old life. It is over. Choose a new name to take with you into your new existence. As your master (
fuck you!
) it is my entitlement to
SUGGEST
(
whoa, that weird ringing in my head again
) what that name might be. Thus, I say you shall be known as...”