Rule of Vampire by Duncan McGeary

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