Blood Isn't Always Thicker Than Water

~OMG, we're past 20 chapters. I just realized that. *squeals excitedly* Sorry. Here's the story:*

I didn’t fall asleep that night, which wasn’t that unusual. I was getting my stuff back from all over the manor. And somehow my left shoe ended up in an outdated toaster-oven. I smelled a rat named Monty.

“Are we leaving this wonderfully wondrous morning?” Jeremy asked at about quarter past three. AM.

I looked at him then out a window at the drearily raining sky. “Sure… Why not…”

He smiled and started humming. It sounded like a budgerigar with lung cancer. “Have you tried the eyeliner?”

“Oh yeah. It’s amazing. I loved it so much I kept trying different patterns and looked up pictures of George so I could copy his styles.” I paused. “Then the terrorists decided I was too beautiful to die and gave me eyeliner in all colors of the rainbow.”

“Really?”

“NO!”

“Just wondering…”

“You can read my mind!” I started thinking really hard.

“AAAAAAGGGHHHH!” he screamed and clutched his head. “I’m scarred for life! Thanks a bunch, Cas.”

“You’re welcome. I never knew accidentally seeing those pictures of Wentz could come in so useful…”

“Unnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh,” Jeremy moaned and dragged himself out of the room with his hands, probably scarring his stomach as well. Balto, who didn’t get what was going on, whimpered and sat on his haunches, staring lopsidedly at the blonde. ‘vampire’ who looked like he had rabies and was moaning and groaning like there was no tomorrow.

Never mind, I’ll stop right there.

While packing my last couple things, I picked up what I had been hiding from
Jeremy. It was a picture of Samantha that I had printed off the computer a while ago. It was in this little plastic case thing, and she looked so…happy. Her eyes shone with it. I wanted to make her feel like that. I wanted to be the cause for her happiness. I wanted to love and care for her. And I wanted her to love me.

“But, no, I just had to go and screw it all up… At least now she’ll live out her happily ever after with George.” The name was becoming a dirty word in my mouth. “He’s taking my girl, and he doesn’t even know I exist. Literally!”

Monty’s tongue lolled out of his mouth. I smirked at his dumb look.

“Caspian ‘the Captor’ Luther Ross, get your skinny ass down here already!”

I sighed. “I’m the leader, Jeremy. I say when we go.”

“Well, you’re about to be demoted,” I heard him say then walk off, probably down to the fire. He loved that thing, with all its mystical-looking jets of flame spewing sparks out all over the place.

I had never liked fire. As a ‘vampire’ I didn’t need much heat—the fire had been for the dogs—and growing up had been a simple cold experience. Now, what with my special abilities and all, fire was supposed to be my friend. It couldn’t harm me. Its potential power meant nothing against me. But instead, what I found friendly could kill me. The cold. I love the cold. Living in Las Vegas hadn’t changed that. Sometimes I would use the AC all year round out in that house Jeremy and I had called home. But a blizzard could kill me. I’m not indestructible. Far from it. But fire…what I hate most besides Wentz and George and Chameleon the McDonald’s Lady, would be my savior against snow, cold, ice hail, rain… What was part of me, in my blood would hurt me most. But what I hate, what I’ve tried to stay away from, would keep me safe. Could that work in a more literal sense? Did hurt intend to come to me from George or Samantha? It already had from Fallen. And would George help me? Would Wentz? Would the King? Well, there was one way to find out.

“Alright, Jeremy,” I called as I paraded downstairs. “Let’s get a move on. The King won’t be happy if George shows up and—” I stopped my voice, train of thought, and tried to do so with my feet, so, naturally, I rammed my shoulder into a doorframe and my head went flying forward causing the rest of me to make a miraculous flip/turn that got my head in the way of the wall and my butt in the very hard way of the floor.

“Shit,” I cursed quietly. “C’mon, Jeremy, where are you?”

“Nowhere in particular…”

I sighed. “Bathroom?”

“Maybe…”

“It’s a miracle I can hear you… Is half an hour okay?”

“Eh, sure.”

I chuckled to myself and dropped my backpack off by the door, and then found the un-dustiest mirror I could find. A random comb presented itself from nowhere as I dusted the mirror off, then I brushed my hair—I have a tendency to forget that—and bit my lip as I pulled out one of the sticks of eyeliner. “George-ville, here I come.”

“After two days, we’re almost there. How do we do it?” I asked as Jeremy and I stopped our merciless trek to feed the dogs.

“Well, there was ‘vampire’ speed, and—”

“I already know. Yeesh,” I reminded him. “I was there through the whole thing. And this is starting to sound increasingly wrong.”

“Whatever you say, Cas, whatever you say.”

I pet Monty wile he ate. The dog was really starting to grow on me. Balto still didn’t let me touch him.

I yanked out the comb I had used at the manor—somehow it had ended up in my bag—and started brushing the tangles and snarls out of Monty’s coat. In one place it was all matted, criss-crossing in a way that would look good if it didn’t look so bad… Oh, you know what I mean.

I sighed in frustration as my hair fell into my eyes—AGAIN!

“Want a hair band?” Jeremy joked as he picked burrs out of Balto’s coat.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” I mumbled and just let my hair fall wherever it wanted.

“You know, that look really suits you.”

“What look?” I asked, frowning at Jeremy.

“You look kinda…emo.”

“Great. Now pass me a razor. I feel sad and depressed because my life has no meaning. Not even saving Samantha or living to be sixty-four with grandkids, let alone finishing this journey.” I didn’t intend for that to be funny, but Jeremy started cracking up. “Oh, my gosh, what now?”

“That…was…so…convincing!” Jeremy gasped.

I sighed and got back to brushing Monty. Jeremy regained his composure.

“Really, with the eyeliner and the long blackish hair and extremely pale skin—”

“Not to mention black clothes,” I added.

“Yes, that too. You look…really cool.”

I blinked at him. “…Okay…”

He rolled his blind eyes and got back to picking burrs out of Balto’s fur like a monkey picks bugs out of the other monkeys’ hides. I shuddered. I’d hate having bugs on me. That would just be gross. And what if they like to bite? If they got anywhere near my pants—

“Let’s go already!” Jeremy said, sounding exasperated.

I nodded. “I hope that they won’t be there before us.”

“Why don’t you just use their names?”

I gave him a “duh” look. “The terrorists.”

“And how would terrorists have anything to do with—”

I covered his mouth. “I have no idea.”

Jeremy sighed. “Fine. You’re the boss, I guess. Well…um…they couldn’t be there before us. We’ve got the speed.”

I scratched the back of my head. “Even with the dogs hampering us?”

“Even with the dogs.” Jeremy smiled and deposited my comb into my bag. “Now, let’s keep going.”

Monty whined as Jeremy and I started jogging. “You chose that manor for your home, boy. Now pay the price,” I told him.

I swear he started dog-grumbling under his breath as Jeremy and I slowly sped up. The last thing we wanted was a pulled muscle from going from walking straight
to “vampire” speed. Let me tell ya, that would hurt. A lot.

“Any glimpses of what lies ahead?” I asked. Why did I always feel like terrorists were following us?

“Nothing that I can tell you.”

“What can you tell me? There must be something.”

“Mm-hmm. Your breath stinks.”