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

  And frankly, the humans needed the help. If something drastic didn’t happen soon, they were going to lose this fight.

  Terrill held the rear as the tall female vampire led the human girl into the Armory. Terrill slashed left and then right, taking out several attackers with each movement. To Callendar, he was a blur––until he appeared inside the Armory. Then, standing very still, he said, “Better close the door.”

  Callendar slammed it shut. Abercrombie had made his way over and had his assault rifle trained on Terrill. “Tell me that isn’t who I think it is,” he said.

  “I’m Terrill. I’m here to help.”

  Abercrombie raised the barrel of his gun. “Well, I’ll be damned. And Clarkson too, if I’m not mistaken.”

  In response, Clarkson rushed to his side and caught the vampire who was about to jump onto the agent’s back just as it leaped. She beheaded it with one swipe of her claws.

  “If you could help us dispatch the wounded vampires,” Callendar said, “that would be a big help.”

  “Please make sure that Sylvie is safe,” Terrill said in a calm voice.

  Robert had approached by then. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Terrill nodded and motioned to Clarkson, who followed him as he moved swiftly toward the vampires who lay, broken and battered, under the skylights. Callendar shuddered as the Alpha vampire began efficiently beheading the enemy wounded. The cops went back to firing at the invading Wilderings, trying for head shots.

  Robert led Sylvie toward the cluster of Crescent City civilians, saying, “This is the safest spot.” He turned and smiled at her. “If that is Terrill, then you must be Sylvie.”

  Sylvie looked at him curiously. There was a warm, friendly tone in the cop’s voice, almost as if he knew her.

  “Have we met?”

  “No,” he said. “But I know your sister, Jamie. She’s told me all about you.”

  “Jamie! Is she here? Is she safe?”

  He shook his head, troubled. “I’d hoped she was with you.”

  Half the vampire hunters were positioned between the civilians and the rest of the building, making sure that none of the Wilderings got through. Robert took up the last position, directly in front, and put a fresh clip into his rifle.

  Toward the front of the Armory, Callendar checked his watch and cursed. Only ten more minutes had passed. It was as if they were the last humans on Earth and everyone outside this building had turned into vampires. The walls shuddered under the force of the attacking horde.

  One minute at a time, Callendar thought. Without looking at it, he peeled off his watch, dropped it to the ground, and stomped on it. One minute at a time.

  #

  Hoss had his spies out all over town. One of them returned in the middle of the night, a couple of hours after Fitzsimmons left, reporting that there was a battle raging at the county fairgrounds, and what’s more, several vampires had joined the humans in the fight.

  “Describe them,” Hoss demanded.

  The vampire described Clarkson almost exactly, and the other vampire––the tall, dark one––had to be Terrill.

  Hoss was puzzled. Fitzsimmons hadn’t seemed to be concerned about the outbreak of Wildering vampires breaking the Rules en masse. No, he’d seemed more interested in tracking down Terrill, who, it appeared, had been his prisoner.

  How was that possible? Terrill was the author of the Rules of Vampire; how could he be a prisoner of the organization whose very purpose was to enforce the Rules? Clearly, everything wasn’t what it seemed.

  Fitzsimmons had acted more like the vampires whom Hoss had sent to the curtained room to be executed: concerned only for himself, not the welfare of all.

  Hoss was beginning to wonder whose side he was supposed to be on. Jamie was his grandmother, in a way. She was the Maker of all these new vampires––but it appeared that was not by choice. Indeed, from what Pete and Jimmy had told him, it was likely she had tried to stop it from happening.

  Now Hoss was being told that Terrill had joined the humans in fighting the Wilderings, thus breaking Rule One: Never trust a human.

  If the Rules were strictly enforced, Terrill was condemned. Yet these Wilderings were breaking all the Rules. Perhaps, Hoss reasoned, Terrill was joining the enemy of his enemies, for the greater good. Which was more dangerous to vampire kind: letting a few humans who already knew of their existence live, or a bunch of Wilderings who threatened to break out into the wider world and let all mankind know about the vampire species?

  Terrill was right, Hoss decided. Fitzsimmons was wrong.

  He made his way to the room where Feller was guarding Jamie. Pete and Jimmy followed him.

  “What do you want?” Feller asked.

  Hoss examined the former vampire hunter. Should I just get rid of him? Hoss wondered. He’s going to keep on being a problem.

  Jimmy gave him a look, as if to ask, Should I take him out? Hoss shook his head slightly. “I wish to talk to this vampire,” he said, nodding in Jamie’s direction.

  Feller clearly wanted to deny the request but couldn’t think of a reason to. Hoss ignored him.

  “Your Maker was Terrill?” he asked Jamie.

  At first, she was stubbornly silent, as if she was going to refuse to answer any questions, but then she seemed to figure out that he wasn’t like Fitzsimmons: he was only asking because he was curious. “Yes,” she said.

  “How is that possible?” he asked. “Terrill stopped killing humans.”

  “I was an accident,” Jamie said. “A mistake that he has tried his best to atone for.”

  “So you trust him?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “He loves my sister, and my sister loves him, so I guess I do trust him. I wish I had stayed in Bend under his tutelage. All of this might have been avoided.”

  Hoss hesitated. He could try to free Jamie and take her with him. It would be a present to Terrill, to show his goodwill. But he wasn’t quite ready to break with Fitzsimmons, which might mean breaking with the Council of Vampires. Overall, Hoss still thought the Council a very good idea.

  “Hoss,” Jamie said, bringing him back to the present. “There is a policeman out there named Robert Jurgenson. If you see him, please… don’t hurt him. Tell him I love him.”

  Love? Hoss wondered. Have I ever felt loved? Why does this woman’s appeal touch me so?

  Hoss turned and, without a word to Feller, walked back to the rest of his followers. He knew Feller wouldn’t leave: he was Fitzsimmons’s creature.

  “Form up ranks,” he commanded. “We’re marching to the Armory.”

  “Going to help kill off the vampire hunters?” Pete asked, sounding enthused.

  “No. We’re going to go help them.”

  Chapter 42

  Stuart couldn’t believe the magnitude of the cataclysm he’d set into motion. He’d expected the authorities––the freaking Army, even!––to show up and shut the Wilderings down. But either no one could believe what was happening, or in all the chaos, the communication lines were down, or it was just plain stupid bureaucratic incompetence. The only people putting up a fight were a few cops and citizens at the fairgrounds, and they were surrounded.

  He’d stayed away from the action at first, catching a few unwary stragglers but not wanting to get caught in what he was certain would be a heavy response, but as hour after hour passed, he started wandering closer to the center of the mayhem. Accompanying him, he had a dozen of the first vampires he’d Made, who were loyal to him and him alone. He meandered about, watching people being chased down, seeing vampires run over by cars driven by panicky humans. It didn’t matter to him who lived and who died.

  They’d never forget this day. The people of Crescent City, who’d treated him like a loser, were paying the price. He only wished he had some way of letting them know who’d been responsible for bringing this horror down on their heads.

  Stuart decided he wanted to be there at the end, when the last of the humans in this town were
snuffed out. He started walking down the coast highway, keeping an eye on the horizon. It was a moonless night, but with his vampire vision, he could see the heavy clouds overhead. He motioned to his followers and picked up the pace.

  #

  Callendar thought, for a few moments, that they might even win. The addition of Terrill and Clarkson to the fight helped hold back the tide at first, but there was a seemingly endless number of vampires outside. One side of the Armory was tilting inward as the walls were pushed in by the Wildering horde.

  Callendar now regretted throwing away his wristwatch. He had absolutely no idea what time it was, or whether dawn would come in time to save them. When he saw the rain start to trickle through the skylights, his heart sank. If there were heavy clouds, it didn’t matter if dawn came. It might weaken the vampires and slow them down, but it wouldn’t stop them.

  When the corrugated metal walls finally crashed in, he expected a swarm of vampires to tumble in after them.

  Instead, he saw a line of vampires facing outward, pushing back against the Wilderings trying to get in. A single small vampire faced him, a young teenager, his hands raised as if to say, Don’t shoot.

  Callendar saw Abercrombie raise his rifle, but signaled him to hold off. He walked toward the little vampire and looked down at him. “Who are you?”

  “They call me Hoss,” the kid said. “I’m here to talk to Terrill?”

  The vampire in question walked over to them. “I’m Terrill.”

  “We wish to join you, at least for the duration of the emergency. As believers in the Rules of Vampire, we believe a Wildering infestation is the worst thing that can happen to our kind.”

  “Very wise,” Terrill said. “Since you are here, perhaps you can help us prop this wall back up.”

  Everyone was energized by the addition of several dozen new defenders. Some of the men and women from the pack of humans huddled in the corner came over to help pile up wooden planks, barrels, concrete blocks––anything they could find, including their own bodies––to shore up the wall against the vampires outside.

  “We aren’t strong enough or numerous enough to hold them back for long,” Hoss said. “You’ll need to take the fight to them.”

  Terrill nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing. Who was this little mastermind of a vampire? Where had he come from? How did he even know about the Rules of Vampire, much less feel such loyalty to them?

  “How do you know all this?” he asked.

  “Google.”

  It is a new world, Terrill thought, where time and distance means little, and a 13-year-old boy can find the truth by simply looking through the information available on a machine.

  However this debacle ended, it was going to be difficult to keep it a secret, though that would probably be in both the vampires’ and the vampire hunters’ best interests.

  Terrill looked around, but Hoss had disappeared on him. Then he saw the young vampire approaching the humans in the corner. The local cop, Robert, had his gun trained on him as he approached.

  “You’re Robert Jurgenson?” he heard Hoss ask.

  Then he heard a huge crash and turned to see the heavy doors fly open and a car careen through. It slid to a stop. The Wildering driver’s head was smashed against the steering wheel and he wasn’t moving, but he was followed by a wave of vampires, who streamed toward them.

  Terrill raised his pistol and shot the leading vampire, whose head disintegrated. He fired again, hitting a vampire who looked like she’d been a middle-aged housewife in the throat. She fell, gurgling, to the floor. He pulled the trigger again and heard a click.

  Terrill lifted a jagged piece of metal he’d pried from the wall and swung it at another one of the Wilderings. It was dull: the vampire’s head didn’t come completely off, but flopped to one side. He swung again and sent another vampire reeling sideways, but the attacker got up again and hobbled toward him. The second blow split the thing’s head open.

  He saw Jeffers pull the vampire out of the driver’s seat, take his place there, and back the car toward the doors. Between him and Abercrombie and a few of the surviving cops, they got the metal doors closed and the car placed against them. But it was only a matter of time before one of the other vampires outside got the same idea.

  Robert Jurgenson approached him. “I’m sorry, I have to leave. I know where Jamie is. I need to rescue her.”

  Hoss appeared at his side, as if instinctively knowing that Terrill needed to step back from the action. Terrill looked at the tall cop and didn’t like what he saw. The cop was leaning to one side, wincing in pain, his hand unconsciously clutching his waist. He was pale and shaky.

  “You’re in no shape to save anyone,” he said.

  “I have to try.”

  “I can help you,” Terrill said. “I can Turn you. You will be stronger than any vampire––if you survive my bite.”

  “No.” Robert looked stubborn. “I will not become vampire.”

  “Then you will not save Jamie,” Terrill said bluntly. “If you become vampire and you don’t like it, I will help you end it.”

  Robert hesitated. Then he swallowed hard and nodded.

  “If you are not pure of heart, if you have evil within you, my bite may do more harm than good,” Terrill warned. “But if you have goodwill toward others, you may be turned into something new in this world. You’ll be a golden-blooded vampire.”

  “I understand,” Robert said. “Do it.”

  Terrill wasted no time. He scooped the man into his arms and sank his fangs into his neck. The cop was skin and bones, he realized. The uniform had hidden the extent of his decline.

  Robert closed his eyes and relaxed. Terrill lowered him slowly to the floor, where he twitched once and was still. It was the quickest Turn Terrill had ever seen: almost immediately, Robert sat back up again. There was awe and determination in his eyes. “I had no idea,” he said wonderingly.

  “Now you must feed from me to complete the change.”

  Robert discovered that just by willing it, he could get his fangs to extrude. He took Terrill’s offered arm and bit into it.

  It was as if the sun had burst into his body, charging every cell, repairing and strengthening every muscle and tissue, making his blood course faster and more smoothly, the oxygen in the air going directly to his head. He almost fell to his knees under the onslaught of sensations, but he adjusted quickly to his new existence. It felt… right. He thought more clearly and felt more vibrant than he’d ever felt in his life.

  “Go!” Terrill said. “Go, with my blessing. If I never see either of you again, tell Jamie I’m sorry.”

  Robert nodded. He ran toward the back of the building, where a small breach in the wall had been covered by a wooden pallet. He pushed the pallet aside and disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 43

  Michael stood in the middle of the hideaway as if he’d been waiting for them. Marc emerged from the tunnel first, and when he started to stutter an apology, Michael shushed him. “It’s OK, Marc. There was nothing you could have done. It was destined to be.”

  Fitzsimmons came next, followed by Peterson. Upon seeing the gray-haired vampire staring calmly at them, Peterson drew the blade from his cane.

  “I was expecting Terrill,” Fitzsimmons said.

  “I’m sure you were,” Michael said. “You’ll have to settle for me.”

  “And you are…?”

  “Oh, come now, Fitzsimmons. You know perfectly well who I am.”

  Fitzsimmons cast a nervous glance at Peterson, stepped back, and pulled out his pistol. “If you are who you say you are––and I’m not sure I believe it––then why are you here? Why now?”

  “One thing leads to another, to another, to another, until they lead to the end,” Michael said serenely.

  “The end?”

  “Yes. The old world has ended and a new one has begun… though you seem intent on trying to destroy it.”

  “I am only following your prec
epts,” Fitzsimmons protested. “The Rules you suggested.”

  “Are you?” Michael asked. “Be honest, Fitzsimmons. No one else is here besides a frightened child and one of your flunkies. You can tell me the truth. Do you really believe in the Rules of Vampire?”

  Fitzsimmons looked blank for a moment. Then he broke into a grin. “Well, well. I think perhaps I believe you really are Michael. You’re the only one to have figured it out.”

  “But it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Michael said. “How better to discredit the Rules of Vampire and break apart the Council than to so strictly enforce them that you ignite a rebellion against the very things you profess to believe? I have to admit, you’ve done a good job of it.”

  Peterson spoke up, a disbelieving tone in his voice. “Fitz? Is this true?”

  “Shut up, Peterson. You’ve never cared about anything but power.”

  “But without the Rules, the Wilderings will take over and we’ll be doomed,” Peterson said. “We’ll be hunted down and destroyed!”

  “Many of us, perhaps,” Fitzsimmons conceded. “But those of us who survive will be free! Free to do as we please, when we please, to whomever we please, Rules be damned.”

  “Then why do you want to capture Terrill?” Peterson asked, looking confused. “He created the Rules!”

  Michael laughed grimly. “He doesn’t want to capture Terrill. He wants to kill him.”

  Fitzsimmons didn’t deny it.

  The vampires stood there staring at each other while outside, the sound of gunshots and explosions rose to a crescendo.

  “Killing Terrill was the last obstacle,” Fitzsimmons said finally. “Or so I thought. But killing Terrill’s Maker, the one who helped him develop the Rules… that will be even better.”

  Looking nervous, Peterson raised his sword, as if expecting Michael to attack at any moment.

  Michael shook his head. “Do as you will. I will not defend myself. But I don’t think the results will be what you expect.”