Rule of Vampire (6 page)

What’s she been doing for food?
he wondered. She and her crew had been in Bend long enough to need to feed, but Terrill hadn’t heard of any mysterious disappearances there, so she was probably going to a local butcher and buying raw meat. He knew from experience that that made most vampires cranky. He smiled to himself.

He had checked the weather before they left, and the forecast had said that Crescent City would be enjoying one of its rare sunny days. Sure enough, as they were finishing breakfast, the sun started to peek over the coastal hills. Clarkson and her men were looking more and more uncomfortable. They got up abruptly and moved quickly to the Escalades with their dark-tinted windows.

Got you!
Terrill thought.

“You ready to see your sister?” he said as soon as Clarkson’s blonde head disappeared into her black SUV.

“Yes,” Sylvie said. She looked a little nervous, and Terrill wondered if she was finally realizing the difficulty of what they were about to try to do.

“I need to explain something to you,” he said. “Clarkson represents an organization that we don’t want anywhere near Jamie…”

As they drove toward the hideaway, he explained what he wanted to do. Sylvie didn’t question his plan. When they pulled up to the parking lot, he got out. Sylvie got into the driver’s seat and drove away.

Terrill watched as the two Escalades pulled into the parking lot and stopped. It appeared that their occupants weren’t sure what to do next. After a few moments, one of the SUVs pulled out and followed Sylvie.

Part one of the plan was a success. He went to the entrance in the blackberry bushes and started crawling through them. It was too bright outside for Clarkson to follow. She could only watch from behind her tinted windows. In Terrill’s back pocket was a pair of gardening clippers he’d brought from home. He’d known that he’d have to get away from the Council vampires from the moment he’d heard about the hideaway.

He entered the little room inside the thatch of bushes. It was exactly as Billy had described it. There were signs of habitation, but to his great disappointment, Jamie wasn’t there… which made no sense. The sun was shining brightly, as promised: that had been part of his plan. So where had she gone?

He stood there at a loss, wondering what to do next. Behind him, a hidden door built of branches, which had blended in with the rest of the enclosure, opened. He turned to see a silver-haired, young-looking man walk into the “room” and stretch out his arms as if offering a hug. “Terrill, the first of my progeny,” the man said. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

“Michael?” Terrill breathed, not believing his eyes. “You’re alive?”

“Of course I’m alive!” his Maker said. Michael didn’t look any different than he’d ever looked: he was still eternally young and eternally gray. He had a modern haircut and up-to-date clothing, but his eyes still held the same mix of wisdom and craziness. “A strange way to put it, of course. I’m not really alive at all, am I? But you are, dear boy! Impossible as it is to believe, you are a living, breathing, heart-pumping human being. I very much want to know how you accomplished such a thing!”

Chapter 9

France, 1653

“It’s time for you to Make some offspring,” Michael said. Every few decades, Michael would stroll back into Terrill’s life. It was always an occasion for celebration. Several hundred years had passed since Terrill had been Turned. They were in France, but speaking English, to the disgust of everyone around them.

Terrill had lost count of the drunken victims he’d consumed, so the comment came drifting through a haze of alcohol.
Make some offspring?
he thought woozily.
Not this again!

Michael was always going on about it, but Terrill had never desired to be a Maker. He didn’t want to spend weeks, months, or even years––depending on how much he wanted his progeny to survive––tutoring a baby vampire. Most didn’t last long anyway. Their instincts to kill and consume were too strong, and no amount of training could make new vampires cautious.

Whenever Michael would reappear in Terrill’s life, he would insist that Terrill start to create his own offspring. Over the past several decades, Terrill had gravitated to Northern Europe, where there were plenty of small kingdoms in conflict that tended not to exchange information about strange disappearances.

“Two strong vampires can watch out for each other,” Michael insisted. They were sitting in a large tavern in the center of a medium-sized town. The area was just populated enough for them to be anonymous.

“So why did you leave me on my own?”

Michael laughed. His silver hair glowed in the candlelight. His skin was flawless, like marble. “I could see you were going to do well without any help from me. And I am too old now to be bogged down. No companion can ever know all that I know. I find it frustrating.”

“I’m getting pretty long in years myself,” Terrill said.

“Yes, which is why I haven’t given up hope for you yet.”

“What do you mean, hope? Hope for what?”

Michael looked ready to say something, then shook his head. “Not yet. Someday, I may tell you, and on that day, you’ll understand.”

Terrill downed a goblet of red wine. He had poured in a little of the blood of his latest inebriated victim so he could feel the effects of the alcohol. “You just told me I’m all right on my own,” he said. “So why should I want to create progeny?”

“Look at it this way: it can be an experiment,” Michael said. “You get to watch as they develop.”

“So that’s what I am to you? An experiment?”

“Indeed. You’ve developed in some interesting ways. Not what I expected, mind you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Terrill groused, slamming down his empty goblet.

Michael ignored Terrill’s outburst. “For instance, what do you think of the barkeep?” he asked.

Terrill looked over at the tall, gloomy man behind the counter. He was dark and lithe, with short black hair and scars on his face. “Horsham? He’s all right, I guess. He keeps a clean establishment––and best of all, he keeps the fighting down.”

The closest that Terrill had ever come to being caught was during a general sweep of a province after a brutal tavern brawl had spilled into the streets. Since then, he’d tried to find more upscale taverns, ones with reputations for harmony.

“I heard he was a captain of the Free Rangers,” Terrill continued. “Got tired of the warfare, took his earnings, and bought this bar.”

“Have you ever heard of such a thing?” Michael asked. There was a strange intensity to the question.

“No, now that you mention it. Most Free Rangers never get to spend their wages. They’re addicted to war, and the only way they stop is with a blade in the gullet.”

“Don’t you find it interesting that Horsham walked away?”

“I suppose.” In truth, Terrill was starting to get bored with his own existence. For the first time, he wondered what it would be like to have a friend. Before he’d become vampire, he’d been a most sociable fellow. Until recently, he hadn’t much missed that, but now…

That was the problem with following the Rules. They kept you safe, but at the price of a boring, humdrum existence. Sometimes Terrill wanted to break the Rules just to see what would happen––to be challenged by the danger of doing something stupid.

So far, he had resisted the impulse. He had seen others go that route, and it never ended well.

Michael changed the subject, but Terrill’s thoughts kept going back to the idea of having a friend, someone to share experiences with. His eyes wandered over to the mercenary veteran behind the bar. Someone like that wouldn’t have to be trained to fight. He’d already know how. He’d be canny and wary, which were the biggest challenges for new vampires. Perhaps…

“Did you hear me?” Michael was saying. “I must go.”

“Good,” Terrill said, then laughed. “Sorry. I mean, I’ll see you again in another decade, or whenever you next pop up.”

Michael nodded gravely. “Let us hope.” He walked away without another word.

Terrill poured another dollop of alcohol-laced blood into his goblet and took a sip. The drunker he got, the more appealing the idea of a companion became.

He eyed the barmaids. That might be even more interesting. But undoubtedly, even as a vampire, a woman would want him to be constant––and Terrill had no intention of foregoing a variety of feminine companionship––whereas a friend wouldn’t care who he dallied with.

Terrill was still sitting there at closing time. “Time to go, fellow,” Horsham said, standing over him, frowning. His look said,
Are you going to give me trouble?

Terrill smiled and staggered to his feet. “Farewell, friend. You run an admirable bar.”

Horsham’s eyes followed him out the door. Terrill’s bonhomie hadn’t sounded quite genuine, apparently.

#

Terrill stood in the darkness of the alley, invisible to passersby. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to do this. On the other hand, the idea of getting up the next night and the next and doing the same things he’d done for a hundred years didn’t sound appealing, either.

Think about this!
he urged himself.
Come back tomorrow when you’re sober. There is no hurry.

But he knew he’d never do it sober––and he trusted the wine. He came to his best conclusions under the influence of wine.

What does it matter?
the colder vampire part of him asked
. If I don’t like it, I can abandon him. Let him try to survive on his own. Or I can eat him. Why should I care?

But something inside Terrill told him that if he committed to this, he wouldn’t walk away so easily. That was strange. For most of his existence, he wouldn’t have given the slightest consideration to the welfare of another. What was different about this?

Then it was too late for second thoughts. Horsham was locking the back door of his tavern in the dark of the alley. Terrill found himself moving swiftly, walking up behind the barkeep as he locked the door.

And then something happened that had never happened before in all of Terrill’s long existence. The man turned swiftly and plunged a knife into Terrill’s heart.

The cold steel seemed to freeze his heart for a moment, as if the organ wasn’t sure it could survive the assault. But the knife was metal, not wood, and Terrill pulled it out of his chest and leaped toward Horsham.

Again, the man surprised him. Horsham grabbed a cudgel that had been hidden near the door and started bashing Terrill over the head with it. Stunned, Terrill fell to the ground, holding his hands protectively over his head, feeling the bones in his arms break as the cudgel rose and fell repeatedly. His head slammed into the cobblestones. He tried to move, but he felt paralyzed.

The knife was back in Horsham’s hands and he was standing over Terrill, screaming. “You thought you’d catch me off guard, you black-hearted scum! I figured you out from the moment I saw you. You are unholy, an abomination!”

The knife sawed into Terrill’s throat, and that finally spurred him into action––one of the few ways to kill a vampire is to cut his head off. He pushed the man away, and Horsham went flying. But instead of being stunned or running, Horsham went on the attack again.

Terrill felt the knife enter his body again and again. It hurt, it weakened him, but such blows couldn’t kill him. He grabbed the barkeep by the throat and began to choke him.

“Don’t kill him,” he heard someone say.

Michael came out of the shadows and grabbed Horsham from behind, pinning his arms. “Now, Terrill!” he said. “Suck his blood!”

Terrill sank his fangs into the helpless man’s neck.

Three days later, in a cheap room at a nearby inn, Horsham reanimated, one of the rare victims who returned as a vampire.

Horsham never let Terrill forget that he had needed Michael’s help; that he hadn’t taken him down alone.

Chapter 10

Jamie waited impatiently for dark, pacing the small enclosure. She’d put off feeding for too long. Now she wouldn’t have the luxury of picking her prey; she’d have to grab some random guy. She hated that. She hated killing, but at least she could try to rid the world of the rotters.

She heard scurrying behind her and turned to see a small squirrel poke its head under the branches. It looked at her in alarm.

She was on it in less than a second, astonished at her own speed. She raised the screeching critter to her mouth without a second thought and sank her fangs into its body. It tasted awful, but it slaked her bloodthirst. She sat down in one of the wicker chairs and thought about that for a while.

She had heard Horsham mention scornfully that Terrill was drinking the blood of beasts, but for some reason she had never thought of that as an option until now. Human blood was what she wanted, so human blood must be what she needed, she’d thought. But was it possible she could live off of animal blood alone?

Her mouth was befouled by the taste of the squirrel. It was like eating a spoiled hunk of meat might have been when she’d been human. She wondered if she would get sick.

Truth was, she just didn’t know enough about being a vampire. She remembered how helpless, how out of control she’d been before Horsham took her under his wing. But what if everything he’d taught her was wrong? Horsham had told her that all vampires were the same; that their human memories were meaningless and would quickly fade; that vampires had no empathy for humans, only for their own kind.

It was Terrill who was wrong, he’d said. Terrill was an abomination.

But what if it was possible to be vampire and not kill people?

She laughed as she realized how ridiculous that sounded.

I am a vampire,
she thought. Terrill had made her so. By killing her. So much for Terrill being morally superior.

When darkness finally fell, Jamie felt that she had resolved her quandary.
I am a vampire,
she repeated to herself.
I am a vampire.