Rule of Vampire (11 page)

“Of course not,” Southern said, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. This wasn’t a borderline case: he’d broken a Rule, there was no doubt about it. “But you all do it. You’ve done it a hundred times!”

“Have I?” Fitzsimmons asked. “Strangely, there is no evidence of that. Hargraves? You guilty of anything? Peterson?”

Both vampires silently shook their heads.

“See,” Fitzsimmons said. “You just think everyone is guilty because
you’re
guilty.”

“You won’t get away with it this time,” Southern said. “We’re on to you and your clique. You don’t have a majority yet, and I doubt you’ll get away with killing the head of the opposition.”

“You’re probably right,” Fitzsimmons said. He pulled a polished stake out of his coat. “That’s why you were killed in an escape attempt, sadly. No one will doubt that, since there will be three Council members testifying to the fact. Right, Peterson? Hargraves?”

Peterson looked a little squeamish, but Hargraves looked like a 10-year-old child about to be given ice cream: a 10-year-old child with 100-year-old eyes.

Fitzsimmons knelt over Southern and placed the point of the stake over his heart. “Damn, I forgot to bring a mallet. Let’s see… oh, there it is: your precious Royal Sigil! Hand that rock over to me, Peterson. That ought to work.”

“Wait!” Southern shouted desperately. “I’ll join you! Fuck the others––I’m on your side! I can tell you who all our agents are! I know things about Terrill you need to know!”

“My dear Southern,” Fitzsimmons laughed. “There isn’t a single thing you know that I don’t already know.” He was enjoying this little drama. Ordinarily, he let others do the hands-on dirty work, but he had missed it. And since there was no one to stop him, he had decided he’d dispatch arrogant old Southern himself.

He slammed the chunk of rock down on the stake. A fountain of blue blood sprang into the air, and Southern shrank before their eyes until he seemed to be nothing but skin, bones, fangs, and protruding eyes.

“You can have him,” Fitzsimmons said, waving at the body disdainfully. Eating another vampire was a rare treat, and the enforcers fell on the body and started ripping into it. “Give me the keys to the car before you get them all bloody,” he ordered. He turned to Peterson and Hargraves. “We need to get to the airport. I believe Clarkson will be arriving with our prize sooner than poor Southern expected.”

Chapter 18

The private jet that was waiting for Sylvie and Terrill at the airport in Redmond, Oregon, was luxurious. It featured good-sized beds, but they were both too upset and anxious to try to sleep. Sylvie was a little calmer than Terrill, but that was only because she didn’t know the stakes.

Terrill laughed grimly to himself. He knew the stakes well––they were sharp and deadly.

Once they were in the air, Clarkson sat down across from them.

“Now we can talk,” she said, looking even more serious than usual. “I left the enforcers behind because I couldn’t be sure whose side they were on.”

“I don’t understand,” Terrill said. “What do you need me for?”

Clarkson cocked her head at him as if bemused. “You really don’t know, do you? You’re a legend, Terrill. When you disappeared from sight, you did something that no vampire has ever done, except for Michael, and you must know how he is regarded. You’ve nearly reached his level in the mythology of our kind.”

Terrill shook his head ruefully. “By trying not to be vampire, I’ve become famous?”

“Most vampires can’t imagine not feeding on humans––not even those of us who might like to try that. But you are also the author of the Rules of Vampire, which in your absence have become paramount.”

“Still, I don’t understand. Are you saying some vampires are for the Rules and some are against them?”

“No,” Clarkson said. “Most vampires are for the Rules; only a small element wants to eliminate them completely.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Clarkson hesitated. “This is where it gets complicated. Some well-meaning vampires thought that if the Rules worked so well when they were voluntary, making them mandatory would be even better. The problem comes in the enforcement. How do you interpret the Rules? How strong do you make the punishments?

“Slowly but surely, the punishments have become more severe. At the same time, the interpretations of the Rules have become stricter, so that just about any vampire can be charged with violating one or the other of them. It has become political. It has become about power.”

Terrill still couldn’t understand what she was driving at. “So you want to loosen the Rules, make the punishments less draconian?”

“Personally, I think they should be made voluntary again,” Clarkson said. “After all, those who break the Rules usually reap their own karma. But yes, most of the vampire community would like the Rules to be interpreted less strictly and the punishments to be less dire. However, the hardcore strict interpreters have been gaining more power by eliminating their opponents.”

“Then why do they want Terrill?” Sylvie broke in. “They must know that he won’t agree with them.”

“That’s true,” Clarkson conceded, “and would be a problem for them if Terrill were able to say what he thinks. But they have you, Sylvie, so they think that Terrill will become their mouthpiece, their figurehead. They can broadcast to other vampires that the founder of the Rules of Vampire is in favor of strict enforcement.”

Sylvie turned to Terrill. “You mustn’t let this happen, Terrill. Not even for my sake. I won’t have the deaths of so many on my conscience.”

“These are vampires we’re talking about, Sylvie. Why do you care?”

“You were a vampire, Terrill, and I loved you. Surely not all vampires deserve to die. But even more importantly, these are the bad vampires who are winning, Terrill. I don’t want that on my head.”

Terrill almost smiled. Bad vampires. Good vampires. She was sometimes so naive about the way of things. And yet… was she wrong? If it had only been the two of them, Terrill wasn’t sure what he would have chosen to do. But Michael had advised him to play along until he completely understood what was happening. That way, the enemy wouldn’t know about his newly regained powers until it was too late.

“If you don’t agree with the hardliners, why did you come to get us?” Terrill asked Clarkson.

“For one thing, because the Council ordered it. My friends and I aren’t yet strong enough to challenge direct orders,” she said frankly. Then her steely expression softened a fraction. “But mostly, because I believe that you’ll find a way out of this, Terrill. You always have in the past, and I have faith you’ll do it again.”

#

Clarkson left them and went to a table on the other side of the cabin, where she started doing paperwork. Terrill and Sylvie retreated to the small bedroom.

“Do you believe her?” Sylvie asked.

“I don’t know who to believe,” Terrill said. “I never expected the Rules of Vampire to be anything other than suggestions. I wrote them almost as a joke, like ‘Here are some things that are so obvious they don’t need to be pointed out, so I’ll point them out for your amusement.’”

“What are you going to do?” Sylvie asked. “I really meant what I said, you know. I don’t want you doing anything against your beliefs just for me.”

“I’ll go along with the hardliners at first,” Terrill said, “until I figure out what to do.”

Sylvie fell silent. It was clear she wanted to say something else, but was struggling with whether to say it.

“What is it, Sylvie?” Terrill asked gently.

“I know you’re not human anymore,” she blurted out.

“How can you know that?” he asked, surprised. He didn’t believe his outward appearance had changed at all, though inside, he felt his vampire strength and powers returning. He could hear Clarkson’s pencil scratching in the other room; he could even hear the pilots’ conversation up in the cockpit.

“I love you, Terrill,” Sylvie said. “And I know you. Your manner changed, as if you had suddenly gained more confidence. You don’t react to things the same way. But more, your skin feels cold; your heart beats so slowly.”

“They must not know,” Terrill warned.

She snuggled into his shoulder. “I love you, Terrill. I know you better than anyone else ever will. They’ll never find out from me.”

He smiled, feeling strangely relaxed despite the danger. He leaned over and kissed her.

Quietly, they made love, not knowing if they’d ever have the chance again.

#

The jet landed at midday. Someone had set up a canopy that ran from the terminal to the plane. As the travelers disembarked, they could see three men––well, two men and what appeared to be a very adult boy––waiting for them. “That’s Fitzsimmons, Peterson, and the little guy is Hargraves,” Clarkson said. “I expected Southern, but maybe he sent Peterson instead.”

As they approached the welcoming trio, Terrill rammed his hand into the railing. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, and held up a thumb with red blood welling from it.

He saw the Council member who looked like a boy, Hargraves, lick his lips at the sight of the blood. The point had been made: Terrill was human. The welcoming committee waited impatiently as Sylvie stopped, dug into her purse, and then wrapped a Band-Aid around his thumb. She looked up at him and winked.

Finally, the pudgy, middle-aged man Clarkson had called Fitzsimmons stepped forward. He took Sylvie––and quite pointedly, not Terrill––by the elbow and led her toward a waiting limousine with dark-tinted windows. “It’s an honor to meet you, Terrill,” he said. “I’ve been hearing about you since the moment I was Turned. Welcome to you, too, Sylvie. We aren’t accustomed to human guests, so please tell us if we don’t meet your needs.” He turned to Clarkson. “I’ll see you at the Council meeting tonight.”

Clarkson’s face was blank, as usual, as she nodded, but Terrill was now familiar enough with her to notice a hint of alarm in her eyes.

He had no choice but to follow the avuncular vampire into the back of the limo. As they pulled away, Fitzsimmons’s eyes went to Terrill’s injured thumb. “Sylvie takes good care of you, I see. Must not be easy, becoming human after so many centuries. You are so
vulnerable
now. Both of you.”

Terrill and Sylvie exchanged a glance. The vampire had made clear, in his simple words, that he was threatening them.

“I mean, what vampire would carry a Band-Aid?” their host laughed, then watched out the window as the airport receded into the distance.

Chapter 19

Jamie woke before noon, which was unusual for her. She rolled over onto her back and smiled. She was still sore, which meant they had been so energetic last night that even her recuperative powers hadn’t managed to catch up. They had stayed awake late into the night while Robert apologized again and again for subjecting her to the sight of the bloody crime scene. No matter how many times she reassured him, he seemed to assume it had traumatized her.

Well, if such concern led to that kind of lovemaking, she was going to make sure to be traumatized again. Maybe by the sight of a spider. Or a scary movie. Anything that would send her into the arms of her big, strong man.

She hugged herself. Sometimes she wanted to hold him so tight she was afraid she was going to hurt him. He was so vulnerable to her. She could smell his blood, of course, but she didn’t want to drink it. Perhaps that was in part because she could smell the sickness in it, but mostly it was because the blood belonged to him, to the man she loved. She wanted him whole so she could have all of him.

There were voices coming from the living room.
Strange
, Jamie thought.
I thought he’d gone to work early.

She rooted around the walk-in closet until she found a robe that was suitable for company and started walking down the hallway. Something made her stop halfway and listen.

“You drove all the way from Los Angeles just to visit me?” Robert was asking.

“We drove all the way here because it’s a long way from L.A.,” a man answered.

Another man’s voice broke in. “Callendar and I needed to get out of town for a while. Our job was getting a little too stressful. Unfortunately, our job seems to have followed us, so we won’t be able to stay long.”

“Anyway,” the first man said, “I’m so glad to hear that you’ve found someone. After my sister… left you like that, you deserved someone nice.”

“She
is
nice,” Robert said, and the genuine warmth in his voice caused Jamie’s blue blood to flow faster. “It’s as if we were meant to meet each other.”

“Good. My sister didn’t deserve you.”

“Have you heard from her?” Robert asked. He sounded both reluctant and intensely curious. If Jamie’s heart had been racing before, now it grew cold with jealousy.

“Running around Europe with her rich boyfriend, who is an insufferable snot, by the way. I’d so rather she’d stayed with you.”

“Thanks, Bill. So… if you have time, I’d like to take you guys to a good restaurant tonight.”

“We’ll see, Robert,” said the man called Bill. “Tell you what: Can I get back to you on that? We’ve come across a cold case we need to pursue.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Well, as it happens, our case may be tied to your murders.”

Jamie began to feel like she was snooping. She took a deep breath and swept into the room.

“There she is!” Robert said. “Jamie! I’d like you to meet my brother-in-law––that is,
former
brother-in-law––Bill Callendar. And his partner in crime,” he hesitated and turned to the taller of the two men. “Sorry, I’ve forgotten your first name, Jeffers.”

“Aaron,” the man said. “Aaron Jeffers.”

Both visitors turned around with big smiles… which immediately faltered and then faded away completely as they got a good look at Jamie. She stopped cold just inside the room as the significance of the looks on their faces sank in. Who
were
these guys, and how did they know what she was? How
could
they know?