The Vampire Evolution Trilogy (Book 2): Rule of Vampire Read online

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  “You got any clips left?” Jeffers asked.

  “None,” Callendar answered. “I’ve been using one of the Army Colt revolvers––I’ve got three bullets left.”

  “I’ve got a flare!” Jeffers asked, holding up the stick. “I plan to light these buggers up!”

  Someone started shooting right outside the huge metal doors of the Armory. “Did we leave someone outside?” Callendar asked.

  “I don’t think so…”

  “You’d better let us in!” someone shouted after a volley of shots had been fired.

  The agents opened the door a couple of inches and peered out. Abercrombie stuck his big face through the gap. “You gonna let us in or what? I’ve got a dozen men here, along with a stray cop we picked up on the way in.”

  They opened the metal door wider, and a squad of fully armed and SWAT gear-bedecked FBI agents ran into the Armory, followed, to Callendar’s relief, by Robert.

  “I’m glad you made it,” Callendar said to his former brother-in-law, securing the door behind him, then turned to Abercrombie. “Is the rest of the crew coming?”

  “This is it,” Abercrombie said. “We flew up on our own dime when we realized they wanted us to drive up. Hell, they weren’t even hurrying.”

  “Thank you,” Jeffers said. He and Abercrombie had never gotten along, but now they shook hands.

  “No problem,” Abercrombie said. “Feller has disappeared, so for once I didn’t have to ask that officious horse’s ass for permission.”

  Jeffers and Callendar laughed.

  “Well, we appreciate it,” Callendar said. “But I’m afraid you boys might have just busted into the Alamo.”

  Chapter 38

  Smoke was billowing out of buildings in downtown Crescent City as Terrill, Sylvie, and the others flew into the airport on the Council’s private jet. In fact, there seemed to be fires burning all over town. With the smoke added to the clouds and rain, it was a perfect day for vampires.

  “Is this normal?” Fitzsimmons asked Terrill.

  “I don’t see how it could be,” Terrill answered, as puzzled as the Council president was. Vampires had always been rare, and his Rules had made them even rarer. But what would happen if everyone who was bitten became vampire? What would happen if there were no Rules? What if Wilderings weren’t sad, forsaken vampires left by their Makers to fend for themselves, but were instead roving free in great numbers, Making other Wilderings every time they hunted?

  He could tell Fitzsimmons was thinking the same thing. A strange look came over the Council leader’s face, almost as if he was thrilled by the idea, but he quickly closed that look down and replaced it with an appropriately grim expression.

  “It is fortunate we came,” Fitzsimmons said. He shook his head. “You see? This is what happens when the Rules aren’t enforced.”

  The airport appeared abandoned. They landed without instructions from the tower and taxied up to the small terminal. They only had to walk about fifty feet to the entrance, but even before they left the plane, they saw several figures running toward them.

  Vampires. They had a look of wild hunger on their faces, like those newly Made.

  Along with Fitzsimmons and Clarkson, Peterson had accompanied them, hobbling on a cane as if he really was an old man. It was an act he put on in public, and it had become so ingrained that he now did it in private, too. Clarkson, who had stayed very quiet, was acting scrupulously neutral toward Sylvie and Terrill.

  There was a six-man security crew, led by Cory, who mostly stayed near Sylvie, making it clear they were there to keep Terrill reined in. It would be a challenge to get Sylvie out of their grasp, but ever since their plane had touched down, Terrill had been watching for the opportunity.

  Cory waved three of the guards forward to deal with the approaching vampires. They ducked under the clumsy swings of the Wilderings, and their claws ripped into the throats of the attackers. The newly Turned vampires screamed and thrashed and fell to the ground, where the guards finished decapitating them.

  This is it! Terrill thought. This is my chance!

  Two of the remaining guards were watching the action. Only one of them was close enough and alert enough to get to Sylvie, so Terrill decided to concentrate his attack on him.

  At the last second, Terrill caught the flash of a face in one of the terminal windows, a glimpse of silver hair and alabaster skin––and a grin.

  Terrill continued the motion he’d begun but slowed it down, as if it was a natural movement and not an aggressive one: a burst of enthusiasm, perhaps. He ended up beside Sylvie, who looked at him curiously.

  Fitzsimmons had a suspicious look on his face, as if he’d caught Terrill’s intention. He opened the door to the terminal and ushered them inside. Sylvie and Terrill went first, followed by the alert guard. Then Clarkson stepped inside. Fitzsimmons began to follow her, but the door suddenly closed in his face, as if it had been snatched out of his hands.

  Peterson, who had been close behind him, walked into Fitzsimmons’s back with a grunt. “What happened?”

  Terrill grabbed the guard who had made it inside with them and twisted his neck until he heard it snap. He dropped the body to the tiled floor. It would take hours for the vampire to recover. Someone was pounding on the door and he heard the glass crack, but it didn’t break.

  The door on the far side of the terminal flew open, and Michael appeared and beckoned to them. “Hurry!” he said. “That glass is meant to be terrorist resistant, but I’m not sure how it will do against vampires.”

  Terrill looked back. The guards were smashing at the door and windows with the butts of their rifles. Fitzsimmons was standing there, arms crossed, glaring at him. There was a look on his face that said, You won’t get away from me for long. But when he glanced at Michael, his expression changed to a mixture of puzzlement and awe. None of the present generation of vampires except Terrill knew what Michael looked like, but it seemed Fitzsimmons had guessed who he was.

  There was a large SUV parked just outside the far door, and Michael jumped into the driver’s seat as Sylvie and Terrill piled into the backseat. Clarkson got in the passenger seat. Michael tore away before the doors were fully closed, throwing Terrill on top of Sylvie.

  “Sylvie,” Terrill said, “I’d like you to meet Michael.”

  “Michael?” Clarkson breathed. “You mean… the Michael?”

  “The one and only,” Michael said.

  Sylvie, unaware that she was looking on a legend, a myth, simply smiled at him, and he smiled back at her in the rearview mirror.

  Clarkson couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  Michael ignored her.

  “The roads are kind of hairy right now,” he said. “There are vampires all over the place––vampires who don’t know how to act like vampires. Wilderings in bunches. Never seen that before.”

  “Where are we going?” Terrill asked as Michael swerved past several vampires feeding on the same corpse. There were bodies everywhere. Houses were on fire on almost every block, and the streets were full of Wilderings, who seemed to like to travel in packs.

  “The safest place I can think of is Jamie’s hideaway,” Michael said.

  “Jamie?” Sylvie exclaimed. “She’s here?”

  “She might be,” Michael said. “But it’s been pretty crazy around here. We can only hope she’s safe. If she’s smart, she’ll be waiting for us in hiding.”

  The SUV lurched over some bodies in the road and clipped a couple of car fenders, but made it safely to the rundown parking lot that led to the hideaway.

  “Better let me go first,” Michael said, ducking into the tunnel. After a minute, they heard him give the all-clear: “Nobody home!”

  Terrill saw Sylvie’s face fall. He motioned for her to go first. He looked around the SUV and saw that the keys were still in the ignition. He drove the vehicle around the side of the thicket and parked it behind some abandoned garages, then loped back.

 
Sylvie and Michael were reading the notes that Jamie and Robert had left for each other.

  “She’s alive!” Sylvie said.

  “Star-crossed lovers, it appears,” Michael added. He looked around the hideaway, then motioned for them to sit down. Clarkson stood guard by the entrance.

  “Might as well make yourselves comfortable,” Michael said. “I’ve got a story to tell you.”

  With the sound of explosions punctuating his story and the smell of smoke and burning flesh in the air, he told them how it had come to pass that Crescent City, California, had, on this day, become the center of the vampire world and the culmination of millennia of planning.

  Chapter 39

  Michael began:

  “It is known among vampires that I am old; the oldest living vampire. But I am far older than anyone realizes. I am the progeny of one of the first vampires; that is, the first of the genetic mutants that evolved from humans.

  “Yes… we are descended from humans. Vampires like to believe we are a separate branch of evolution. Humans believe that even more strongly. We are superior beings, or we are monsters: in any case, we are different.

  “But that isn’t the whole truth. Long ago, we split from the human line and became a separate species, yet we are still more human than not. When we bite humans, we genetically alter them––those who survive. Most do not.

  “It is our genetics that make us vulnerable to sunlight, that make us immortal and powerful and swift.

  “It is our genetics that make us hunger for blood from the moment we are Made.

  “It is our genetics that still our conscience and allow us to kill without remorse.

  “After a thousand years, ten thousand years––it was so long ago that I can’t be sure––I started to feel something again. I would kill and feel remorse. I would look into the eyes of my victims and feel regret at the dimming of their light. I started to avoid humans altogether, hunting wild beasts instead, even though their blood was never as satisfying. I survived for millennia without killing a human. And all that time, I watched as other vampires ran wild, killing without thought.

  “I started to think of guidelines to save my kind, rules that would help keep them safe. But I was also thinking of humans, for the rules would mean fewer vampires, which would mean fewer victims. Later, I told Terrill these ideas and he codified them into the Rules of Vampire.

  “For a long time, I was satisfied with that. The two species were able to exist side by side, and if humans were prey, they were also often the hunters.

  “Over time, I noticed two things. One, the older the vampire, the weaker the bloodthirst. Like me, other older vampires began to feel something for their victims. Two, the older the vampire, the less bloodthirsty their progeny.

  “I also noticed that if the victim was already great of heart––someone who was caring, loving, and selfless––he made the transition to the more thoughtful, empathetic type of vampire more quickly.

  “Without planning to, almost unconsciously at first, I began to try to protect the older vampires, many of whom, like Terrill, were of my own Making. New vampires were as savage as ever, but they were also careless and often the first to be hunted down by vampire hunters. Over time, because of the weeding out of the more vicious vampires and––thanks to the Rules of Vampire––the survival of the older vampires, our species became less mindless and brutal.

  “The vampire of myth––remorseless, savage, evil––was replaced by the cautious, civilized vampire of today.

  “Until recently, of course. But that part comes later.

  “As time went on, I began to guide this evolution. As with generations of humans modifying their livestock, I was able to watch the change happen. I would guide my progeny toward humans who I thought would benefit the bloodline. Each generation of vampire seemed less venomous than the last. Terrill’s line was especially fruitful. Each of his progeny Turned––if you will––into empathetic vampires sooner than the last, until with Jamie, we got a vampire who was empathetic almost from the beginning.

  “I had some failures along the way. Horsham began to shift in the empathetic direction before Terrill did, but that progress was derailed when Terrill killed his lover.

  “Then, unexpectedly, Terrill became my greatest success… and yet, also my greatest failure, for he succeeding in dropping out of sight. For some time, I thought he was dead and gave up looking for him. Then Horsham, pursuing his long vendetta, brought Terrill back to light.

  “By the time I found Terrill, something completely unanticipated had happened.

  “He had become human.

  “This, I had never expected. I wasn’t sure, actually, that it was what I wanted. I didn’t want the vampire species to disappear, only to become more civilized. I thought Jamie was the culmination of my efforts, not Terrill.

  “And then a second unforeseen thing happened.

  “Jamie’s progeny became a new species altogether. Ever since the time of my Making, vampires had been rare. Out of every hundred or even thousand victims––those left uneaten––usually only one would Turn. Once the Rules of Vampire took hold, there were even fewer progeny, for the Rules dictated that the prey be consumed, so it was only by accident that the occasional vampire was created. This left me free to guide my own subjects toward Making those I deemed worthy.

  “But Jamie’s progeny are able to Make vampires with every bite. Since they are young and inexperienced and don’t know the Rules, they often leave behind untouched bodies.

  “Thus we have the epidemic of today, which threatens our entire species. The existence of these Wilderings is going to be impossible to hide, and once known to the world at large, vampires will be the targets of human wrath.

  “We won’t win that war. They outnumber us by hundreds of millions, they can move around by day and by night, and they have developed weapons that neutralize our natural speed and strength.

  “Somehow, in trying to create empathetic vampires, I have created an even more vicious and remorseless breed.

  “They must be stopped.”

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  There was a long silence. Terrill had guessed some of this, and the rest was like a story he’d been told once but forgotten. It sounded right.

  “So you’re saying that we are the results of simple biology,” he said. “Genetic freaks.”

  “No!” Michael said emphatically. “You haven’t understood me at all. I have so far told you only half the story, and not the most important part. Hear me.”

  #

  “As the centuries passed, I began to realize something else about what it meant to be vampire.

  “Genetics explained many things. But why was it that the crucifix repelled us? Why did holy water burn us? Why could we not walk on consecrated ground? What was it about a wooden stake that made us vulnerable?

  “And most of all, why were we forced to walk in the shade, never feeling the blessed daylight?

  “It was as if the humans were right: we were damned creatures, condemned to darkness.

  “None of this could be explained by science. It was a realm I felt unable to enter––the realm of religion.

  “I never did find an answer to these questions, until one day, by some miracle, Terrill became human. But how did he become human? It wasn’t because of anything I had done. It certainly wasn’t because of genetics.

  “It was because of Terrill’s moral choices and his sacrifice.

  “He suffered, he endured, and he resisted temptation. And he asked for redemption.

  “To my utter astonishment, he received it.

  “Once again, I dared meddle with nature. I thought perhaps I was defying the will of God, but perhaps I was doing His will.

  “I turned Terrill back into a vampire, and he became something new: a vampire who can walk in daylight. I thought, perhaps, this was the culmination of my designs.

  “But I realize now they were not my designs. They were the designs of someone far greater than I. They were
the designs of the God of men, who I believe is also the God of vampires.”

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  There was another long silence. Talk of God and vampires didn’t go together in Terrill’s experience… and yet.

  “I have something I need to show you,” he said.

  He raised his arm and extended his fangs. From a single pair of puncture wounds, the golden blood welled out, glittering even in the dim light of the hideaway.

  Michael gasped. Clarkson looked curious, but obviously couldn’t make sense of it.

  Michael reached out and caught a drop of the golden blood on his finger. He lifted it to his mouth.

  He went into convulsions almost immediately, shaking violently from head to toe, and Terrill got ready to catch him if he fell. Then the fit subsided and he grew still. His white skin briefly took on an almost human flesh tone, then faded to its usual pallor. He opened his eyes, and they were shining with a strange fervor.

  “Clarkson. Drink Terrill’s blood,” he commanded.

  Clarkson looked at Terrill as if asking for permission, and Terrill nodded. It felt right.

  Clarkson took one sip and collapsed onto the carpets that covered the ground of the hideaway, thrashing as if she was being killed. A high, steady moan emanated from her frothing lips, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “What have you done?” Sylvie exclaimed. She dropped down to Clarkson’s side and held the vampire’s head in her lap so that it wasn’t pounding against the ground.

  Finally, Clarkson stopped convulsing. Her eyes fluttered open. Her cheeks were flushed and her white-blonde hair had taken on a golden glow. She looked, Terrill marveled, more like a human than a vampire.

  “You are God’s creatures,” Michael breathed. “Not mine. All this time I thought I was being clever, and I was but doing God’s will.”

  Terrill looked inside himself and wondered, Am I the first of a new kind of vampire? A Golden Vampire?