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

by Duncan McGeary

  She sat up and looked him in the eye, then kissed him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready.”

  He stared back into her eyes and saw there was no guile there, only love. At times like this, he felt as if she was the old one and he was the one who’d been newly hatched. She had the wisdom of an old soul in a young body. He felt like a boy in an old body.

  “You think I don’t know what they’re doing?” Sylvie said. She punched him playfully in the chest.

  He laughed, but couldn’t hide his uncertainty.

  “Terrill, it’s my fault. I didn’t want to tell you until it was absolutely necessary, but I can see how it is.” She took his head in both of her hands. “Listen to me, love. I won’t allow them to use me as leverage against you again. Ever.”

  Twice more, they had been called to the Council chamber to denounce “traitors.” Twice more, Terrill had voted as Fitzsimmons asked.

  “Never again,” Sylvie said. He knew that tone of voice, and had never seen Sylvie fail to follow through on such a vow. “I will die first.”

  She rolled on top of him. “That’s why I’ve been so insatiable. That’s why I want to live every moment, to see and feel everything I can. Because soon I will be gone.”

  “No, Sylvie,” he protested. “They would execute their opponents with or without me. My vote changes nothing.”

  “You don’t see how much power you have, Terrill. Others are going along because you are. Oh, sure, they see you’re being coerced, but in their hearts they don’t believe you would vote against your own views just to save a human.”

  “None of these vampires are worth your life!”

  “I can’t judge them,” Sylvie said. “But even if that is true, there is another, even more important reason. I’ve seen what it’s doing to you. It’s diminishing you with every minute that passes. I can’t bear to watch it.”

  “Don’t do anything rash,” he said. “If it comes to another Council meeting, I’ll fight them. We’ll lose, but at least we will dispel the illusion. But let me try to figure out an escape plan first. We’ll get out of here soon, I promise.”

  “OK,” Sylvie said. She’d follow through on her threat, he knew, if he didn’t come through. She wouldn’t wait for another vote.

  They began to make love, and this time he felt the same desperation she did. Each time really could be their last time, he realized.

  Later, as they drifted toward sleep, her head nestled in the crook of his arm, Terrill said softly, “There is another way.” There was a question he had wanted to ask her since he first met her. But he knew what her answer would be.

  “No,” she murmured. “I will not become one of them.”

  He didn’t say anything. She had said “them,” as if he wasn’t one of them. But to her, he probably wasn’t.

  And that was that.

  Chapter 31

  Terrill realized he wasn’t going to have time to wait for the perfect opportunity to escape. He was going to have to pick among some weak options. He was on guard now on two fronts: on one, he was watching for the slightest weakness in his opponents; on the other, he was watching Sylvie, making sure she wouldn’t make good on her promise.

  It was as if the guards could read his intentions. They ramped up security at every point––loopholes he had discovered were closed; gaps in their rotation were filled in; weaker guards were replaced by stronger guards––not so much around him, but around Sylvie, which was both distressing and reassuring. They didn’t want her to come to harm (by other than their own hands, of course) any more than Terrill did.

  Terrill overheard one of the guards mention that a Council meeting had been called for the next day. He glanced at Sylvie, but she showed no sign of having heard. Still, she’d know soon enough, and if he understood her at all, she had already figured out a way to put an end to her life.

  Yet he was still reluctant to force the issue. Once he revealed himself, the element of surprise would be lost forever. Never again would the hardliners be so relaxed around him. They thought they only needed to control Sylvie, and that by controlling her, they controlled him.

  Certainly, they had no clue about his real powers. He and Sylvie spent time every day on the balcony, basking in the sun. The balcony was fitted with a grate, but enough sun came through that they were both getting tan. To Terrill, the feel of sunlight on his skin was a miracle, something humans took for granted but that he had not felt in centuries.

  When he looked in the mirror, he could see his own reflection. Another miracle. Instead of a pale wraith, he saw what appeared to be a healthy, sun-worshipping human. But he could feel the vampire blood coursing beneath the surface. He was something new, something that was neither human nor vampire.

  That morning, Terrill had cut himself shaving. He didn’t think anything of it; it would heal with minutes. But Sylvie was using the same mirror, and she gasped.

  “What is it?” he asked, looking around. If there were vampires behind them, he wouldn’t see them in the mirror.

  There was no one else there.

  “Look at your blood!” Sylvie said, her eyes round.

  He reached up and swiped his fingers across the trickle of warm blood. He expected to see red, though he wouldn’t have been surprised to see blue. Instead, there was a yellowish sheen on his fingers. He looked in the mirror and saw blood droplets that appeared to be molten gold oozing from his wound.

  He caught one of the drops on his fingertip and held it up to the light. It seemed to glitter under the glow of the bulb.

  “That’s… different,” he said. “Never seen that before.”

  “You aren’t vampire,” Sylvie said. There was a certainty in her voice that seemed to decide the issue.

  “Yes,” he said. “But what am I?”

  She didn’t have an answer for that.

  #

  Terrill and Sylvie got dressed, though it was clear they weren’t going anywhere that day. The sun was shining brightly outside, and they would not be allowed to go where the guards couldn’t follow.

  They settled in for the day, Terrill with a book and Sylvie doing crossword puzzles. Terrill sat with the book open in his hand, but the words blurred. He’d have to make an escape attempt today or risk losing Sylvie forever. There was little chance of success, but at least they would die resisting. Maybe word would get out to the opposition. Maybe their deaths would serve a purpose.

  Terrill couldn’t come up with a plan that involved anything other than a frontal attack, perhaps made toward the end of the shift, when the guards would be the most relaxed. He could probably overwhelm the two guards right outside the door, but it was the escape route he was worried about. The hotel was filled with vampires, on every floor and in every room, all of them hardliners.

  Terrill doubted they’d try to kill him and Sylvie without orders, but there would be more than enough of the hardliners to slow them down, and if word came down that they were not to be allowed to escape, all hope would be gone.

  No, some form of stealth would be required, to get them as close to the exits as possible before he made his move.

  Terrill prayed for rain, for cloud cover––anything that would make the guards comfortable with going outside. Once outside, he would take his chances with the human population.

  If it were just him, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But all it would take would be one guard taking initiative to stop Sylvie forever.

  She’s going to end it herself if we don’t escape, he thought. We have to at least try.

  Terrill walked out onto the balcony and saw roiling clouds moving in. Before long, the sky was dark. His heart lifted. He felt a drop on his forehead, then another. Soon the rain was pouring down.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he said to Sylvie. He kept his eyes on hers for a little longer than normal and she got the message. Now was the time.

  The guards didn’t object to a walk. It was clear that there’d be no more direct sunlight that day, and they were under orders to
accommodate Terrill and Sylvie whenever possible. After all, it would take but a moment to recapture the two prisoners––or so the guards thought, assuming they were both humans, weak and slow.

  Terrill and Sylvie were getting ready to leave when they heard a loud boom outside the building. One of the windows shattered and the entire structure shuddered as if struck by an earthquake. A guard ran for the balcony. Terrill followed. There was a cloud of debris rising from the street below. Both guards’ cellphones rang.

  “Yes, sir,” Terrill heard them say, almost simultaneously. One guard grabbed Sylvie and pulled her out the front door; the other motioned for Terrill to follow. They ran down the corridor to the stairs and up one flight.

  There were several more guards waiting for them on the next landing––or so Terrill thought at first. But these vampires were pointing their crossbows not at Terrill or Sylvie, but at their guards, who put up their hands.

  A tall, stringy man stepped forward. “We’ve been sent by the resistance to help you escape,” he said. “We have a helicopter waiting on the roof. Let’s go.”

  Terrill and Sylvie followed. Below, they could hear fighting.

  “Who sent you?” Terrill shouted above the sound of the helicopter.

  “You know,” the man said. Then he stared at Terrill as if waiting for him to respond.

  “Actually, I have no idea,” Terrill said.

  “Clarkson.”

  “Clarkson?” Terrill repeated. It made sense… and yet, something wasn’t quite right. Their rescuer was again staring at him expectantly, evidently waiting for him to supply more information. Terrill didn’t say anything.

  They reached the helicopter and clambered inside, but had barely lifted off when the motor started sputtering. “We’ve been hit!” the pilot shouted.

  “Can you put her down?” their rescuer asked.

  “If you see another building with a helipad,” the pilot said. “But it better be lower than this, because we’re losing altitude!”

  “There!” The tall man pointed. A helipad was visible on the roof of a three-story building next to a public park near the Eye of London.

  They were dropping fast and their approach was rough, but at the last minute, the pilot straightened out the helicopter and they landed gently. The engine sputtered and died with a high whine.

  “I don’t know this part of London,” their rescuer said. “None of my men are nearby. We’ll need to go to ground.” He turned to Terrill and asked, “Do you have any contacts in London? Any resources we can use?”

  Terrill shook his head. “None. It’s been too long since I lived here. The vampires I knew who might have helped me have already been executed.”

  The man’s face transformed. He smiled at Terrill and pulled out his phone. “Did you catch that, boss?”

  “Good job,” Fitzsimmons’s voice said. “Bring them on back.”

  Terrill looked around. The pilot was holding a gun on Sylvie, but he’d probably never have a better chance. He was ready to act as soon as the gun wavered in the slightest. He’d take out the pilot first, then the tall man.

  No more than a half a dozen yards away, the door to the roof opened and armed guards came pouring out. They soon had the helicopter surrounded.

  The moment of opportunity was gone.

  #

  Fitzsimmons was waiting for them in their hotel room. He looked completely smug. “A couple of flash bombs and some loud banging: that’s all it cost me to deceive you,” he said. “I’ve been wondering who your confederates were. Frankly, it didn’t occur to me that you didn’t have any. I was certain you would implicate Clarkson. No wonder you haven’t tried to escape before.”

  Terrill didn’t say anything. He hadn’t been completely fooled: the whole getaway hadn’t felt right. But he also hadn’t lied about not having any friends or resources in London, and if it would help the hardliners relax their guard, there was nothing wrong with letting them think he had no options.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Fitzsimmons laughed. “I’ve been watching you on the security monitors for days, and you couldn’t have been much more obvious about your intentions. You tighten up, dear boy. Like you’re getting ready to do battle.”

  “The Council meeting?” Terrill asked.

  “I had that little tidbit dropped within earshot, thinking it might spur you to action. But sadly, no, there is no meeting planned in the near future. I’ve run out of known enemies… for now.”

  Terrill looked around for Sylvie to see how she was taking this latest setback. She wasn’t in the room. “Sylvie?” he called.

  He and Fitzsimmons spotted her at the same time. She was on the balcony, lifting up a corner of the grate that she had apparently managed to loosen. Then she climbed out onto the ledge.

  If Fitzsimmons hadn’t reacted so quickly, Terrill would have been forced to reveal himself. He’d never in his life had an instinct stronger than the one to rush over to Sylvie right then. But it was as if time slowed down and he had an extra moment to observe Fitzsimmons and make a decision, so when he saw a blur of movement from where the other vampire was standing, he held back for a fraction of a second.

  Fitzsimmons caught Sylvie just as she was leaping off the ledge and pulled her, screaming, back onto the balcony. The guards had reacted more slowly, but were there to take her out of their boss’s arms.

  He marched back to Terrill. “That was foolish. Now I’m going to have to put guards on you at all times, inside and out.”

  Terrill felt himself sag with defeat. But at the same time, he was relieved. They’ll keep Sylvie alive, he realized.

  “I came here personally to tell you something,” Fitzsimmons said. “There has been a development in America. Apparently, that town that Clarkson picked you up in is having an epidemic of vampires. Crescent City has produced more vampire sightings in the last week than all the sightings in the world in the last decade. I’m going to investigate, and I’m taking you two with me.”

  Terrill didn’t respond, but he felt a surge of hope. Getting out of London and back into the territory he knew couldn’t help but be to their benefit. His thoughts went to Jamie. She’d be there, too. The time might still come when he could get them out of this trap.

  “Your progeny, Jamie, seems to be an extraordinarily Maker,” Fitzsimmons said. “And she’s breaking every Rule there is.”

  Chapter 32

  Jamie’s gone, Robert thought as he drove through the streets of Crescent City. She’s left town––or she’s dead.

  He’d searched every alley, every vacant lot, and every uninhabited house. He’d explored all the parks, all the beaches, and every thoroughfare. She could be living in the woods, he supposed, but she was nowhere where he could find her.

  The disappearances and murders had overwhelmed the police department, and the FBI had taken over the entire town. The cops were at the FBI’s beck and call, but Robert had stopped reporting in.

  On the second day after the arrival of the caravan of vampire hunters and other FBI agents, he’d been pulled aside by the leader of the group, an agent named Feller.

  “We don’t have time for personal missions,” Feller had said sternly.

  Robert couldn’t even get angry. It didn’t matter what this agent said; he wasn’t going to change what he was doing.

  “I mean it, Jurgenson––Robert, is it? Look, Robert, this could make you or break you.”

  Robert had nodded. “Sure.”

  “Listen, this is the chance of a lifetime. Promotions and honors and a hefty raise in pay await if you just follow instructions.”

  Robert had walked away and forgotten the conversation five minutes later.

  After that, it seemed like Feller had it in for him, assigning him menial tasks––getting coffee, buying printer paper, collating files, and so on––which Robert did if it was convenient and ignored if it wasn’t.

  They had a huge blowup on the fourth day––or at least, Feller did. Robert just walked a
way again, and this time, he didn’t go back.

  He still listened to the police scanner, hoping for and dreading the words “female perp.” Each time, he held his breath until it was clear it wasn’t Jamie.

  The FBI had insisted they not use the words “vampire” or “kill.” Murders were referred to as “accidents” and vampires were “perps.” Ordinary crime was being ignored––not that there was much of it. People were staying inside, behind locked doors, and many of them had guns. The police and FBI had to make it very clear who they were before they dared knock on a door.

  After being shot at a couple of times, Robert was yelling “POLICE!” every time he turned a blind corner. Once or twice, early in his search, he had come across vampires, and he’d shot them in the head and called it in. He hadn’t waited around to see what the FBI did with the bodies. He’d dragged the first body into the sunlight to get a good look at her and had nearly been scorched when the vampire burst into flames.

  Robert had been ordered to come in to the police station but was ignoring the command. He didn’t care about his career anymore. He’d only been working because he didn’t want to sit at home and rot away. Now, what did it matter? He was dying. He just wanted to see Jamie one more time.

  Part of him hoped she had left the area. He was pretty convinced she had; otherwise, he was certain, she would have tried to get ahold of him. His phone was charged and on the passenger seat next to him. He checked it––again––to make sure it was on. Why wouldn’t she call? he wondered. Does she think I hate her?

  He picked up the phone and called her number again. The first few times he’d called her, it had gone to voicemail. Now it was saying that no such number existed.

  Was she dead? Had she been caught up in the vampire holocaust?

  Robert pulled over and put his face in his hands. After he had been alone for so long, she had come into his life and become part of him. When she ran away, she left a lonely, aching void. Nothing could fill that void: nothing but her face, her voice, her smell.