Blood Isn't Always Thicker Than Water

One day I was checking up on Samantha Royce, and her Twitter announced that she was going to a concert a thirty-minute walk away. Her house was farther than that, and she seemed sort of rich so I didn’t know what kind of security systems to expect. Anyway, she was walking right into my hands! This was too simple.

But I bought a ticket and went over to the concert without so much as a good luck from Jeremy and saw none other than who Jeremy had told me truly was my brother, George Ryan Ross.

The third.

And Samantha was in the front row, as a sneak peek at her ticket had shown. She was a beautiful girl, if I do say so myself. The stripe in her left eye made her look a little mysterious.

Her friend’s hair needed some help. Immediately.

After the concert I followed Samantha out to the parking lot, accompanied only by her friend.

This was just too easy. Capturing Samantha and knocking her friend out for the count would have no fun. I wanted it to be more exciting.

The excitement came in the form of Andrew Hurley and Joseph Trohman. But I couldn’t bring myself to hurt the musicians. They had been on my first CD!

But then, my chance was gone. Samantha was inside, backstage, meeting my brother. Who I had never met.

My life is screwed.

So, I did the only thing I could. I waited for Samantha to come back out, hopefully with no musicians and just her friend. Or even without the friend. Maybe she would realize that she dropped something on the pavement and come out searching for it.

But maybe after ten minutes of waiting, I sensed something I had never had to worry about before.

Danger.

And that came in the form of Peter Wentz and Patrick Stump driving into the parking lot.

Which one of them was dangerous? Both? Did they have a murderer hiding in the trunk?

I only thought of that because I would hate to have to be scared by a musician. Especially one from Fall Out Boy.
Turns out that Pete seemed to be the dangerous one. He seemed to sense that I was watching him, for he looked in my direction multiple times as he walked toward the doors Samantha had passed through.

Patrick was happily oblivious to my presence. He didn’t look my way once.

After Pete had disappeared inside, I bolted home. I was thoroughly disturbed and needed to talk with Jeremy.

Who wasn’t home.

I searched high and low for the guy all over town, but I couldn’t find him. I searched for a good, solid hour at least.

Then, when I was just about to head back home, I saw Samantha. She was singing with her frizzy-haired friend, Patrick Stump and the ever-present Pete Wentz.

I stood stock-still as that unfamiliar sense of danger washed over me. I stared at the ground, shook it off then looked back at Samantha.

She was looking back at me.

Oops.

Once she saw me and stopped walking, Pete took notice, too.

“Move your ass Ross, or I’ll have to move it for you!”

“Jeremy…” I whispered in relief, and raced away from my previous spot.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeremy hissed at me. He was in a tree about
ten feet away from where I was standing, searching for him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I retorted, frowning as I came to a stop at the base of the tree he was in. “I was scared stiff when you weren’t home.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Says they guy who fell into a trash can.”

He rolled his pale eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me at night,” he revised. “I didn’t tell you, but I can see in moonlight.”

“Cool…” I murmured. “Color and all?”

“No,” was the sullen answer. “Just black and white. But it’s better than nothing. Now, are you suicidal?”

“No.” I’ve got a very huge reward waiting for me the day that I can get this damned girl over to the King.

“Then why did you let the Guardian see you?!”

“The who?”

“The Guardian!” Jeremy almost yelled. “Ugh. Let’s get home. I’ll tell you there.”

Jeremy’s blonde hair flickered in the moonlight as he jumped down from his tree.

“Why were you up there?” I asked in a defeated voice, pointing at the branch he had just vacated.

“The better to see you with, my dear.”

And he bolted.

I chased after him yelling, “Don’t you go all ‘Big Bad Wolf’ on me!”

“Too late!”

But the atmosphere changed as soon as we sat down on the lone couch in the living room.

“So,” I started. “Is Pete Wentz a…Guardian?”

“The short guy with the dark hair?” Jeremy specified, looking into my eyes with uncanny precision.

“That’s him.”

“Yes, he’s a Guardian.”

“What are Guardians?”

“Originally they were talented humans raised to Guard the female of their race that came every fifty years and was designated to carry on the line of ‘vampires’. Kind of like the…Secret Service?”

“How did they know who this girl was? And why every fifty years?”

“No one knows why there is only one female human fit for a ‘vampire’ every fifty years, but she was always recognized by the fact that she was an only child and had a gold stripe through one eye—usually the right.”

I sighed. “Should’ve guessed…”

“But then the Guardians changed, all thanks to Peter Wentz.”

I frowned. “Pete Wentz? From Fall Out Boy?”

“No. I think you know him better as Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz I, or Peter Pan.”

“WHAT?!”

“You heard me, Peter Pan. His wife, Margaret, was the one that got him to come back to Earth.”

My brain was derailed.

Peter Pan? That was ridiculous.

“Fine, don’t believe me.” Jeremy stood up. “Deep down, you know it’s true.” He began to walk out of the room.

I didn’t know what I was doing. But somehow I found myself saying, “No! Jeremy. Come back. I…I want to know more.”

He did his evil smile thing again.

I need to watch out for this guy…

“As you wish.” He sat back down. “It all changed when Wentz I came around. Do you mind if I call him Pan?”

“Call him whatever you like.”

“Thank you. Anyway, he married the sister of a Guardian.”

“Margaret.”

“Good memory.”

He sounded like a flippin’ teacher.

“Pan’s children,” Jeremy continued, “wanted to be Guardians. Said it was their ‘birthright’ or something.”

Jeremy actually did air-quotes when he said “birthright”.

“But when they were denied entry, they created their own version of the Guardians, and tricked the King of ‘Vampires’ with magic so that he would think they were
the original Guardians. They actually killed of the originals… Had their father’s spunk…”

Now my brain was not only derailed but also upside-down.

“Magic?” I asked weakly.

“Yes. Well, they ordered the fairies to use their magic…but same thing, really.”

“Magical fairies?”

I don’t know what my brain was going through right then but it sure wasn’t good.

Jeremy just kept right on talking.

“Now Peter Wentz III is a Guardian and is set on keeping Samantha Royce safely out of the reach of ‘vampires’.”

I gulped. “Have you…seen anything? Will he succeed?”

“That is for me to glimpse”—I groaned—“and you to find out.”

Why couldn’t he just tell me?

He got up to leave, abandoning me with my turmoil that was supposed to pass for coherent thoughts. “Well…” he murmured, halfway out the door to the living room.

I stared at him hopefully. I must have looked ridiculous, like some sort of lost puppy.

“Just remember to never underestimate Wentz, and never, under any circumstance, drink his blood.”

I was repulsed by him mentioning that!

“Good reaction. ‘Night, Caspian.”

“You too, Jeremy.”

I went upstairs a few minutes after Jeremy and robotically got ready for bed.

Peter Pan?

Fairies?

Musical fake Guardians?

It was all too weird.

My brain happily took up the chance to sleep. My body was a bit pooped too. My eardrums were probably scarred for life from my brother’s Panic concert. I bet he didn’t even know he had a brother, or that he was a “purebred vampire”. He may be six years older than me, but he’s got a lot to learn.

That night was the first night I dreamed about Samantha Royce.

I woke up in the morning to a thunderous laugh from Jeremy.

“Shut up.” I couldn’t think of anything more explicit right then.

“Why should I when you were the one who was moaning and groaning? What were you thinking? ‘Harder, babe, harder’?”[i/]

He burst into another fit of laughter. I had actually dreamed that I had found Samantha and my older brother making out in my bedroom. I was probably “moaning and groaning” out loud because George—I’m calling him that from now on—started to beat me up.

I didn’t like that dream.

Over a breakfast of raw meat—“vampires” enjoy it—I tried to tell Jeremy my dream, but he was firmly convinced that I had been dreaming about stuff that used to only happen after people got married. Now, if you go to college and are still a virgin, you’re considered a nun or monk or something.

I don’t have to go to college! Male “vampires” shouldn’t, anyway. They’re immensely stronger than humans since our blood is stronger. It disintegrates human blood. Odd, eh?

So, if I couldn’t drink Guardian blood, was it more powerful?

I asked Jeremy.

“No. ‘Vampire’ blood is more powerful. But the magic in Guardian blood will scald your insides and you will have bladder problems for the rest of your life. You’ll probably also sound like a smoker.”

Ew.

So, with that, I headed off for a day of work.