Blood Isn't Always Thicker Than Water

My eyes narrowed. “Come on, Monty.” I walked toward my brother and said, “Hello. Are you, by any chance, Ryan Ross?”

He looked carefully at me and nodded. Then Jon Walker, Panic’s bass guitarist, emerged from behind him.

“Okay, why did you bring him?” I asked, pointing to Jon.

George frowned. “Because I did.” Jon walked over and stood at his side.

Then Samantha came into view. Her eyes fixed on me. “Caspian…” she mouthed. I blushed a bit and George looked at me weird. Then Samantha’s eyes flicked to the side and she seriously yelled, “Fallen!” She bolted over to him and hugged him fiercely. She started whispering something to him and he smiled. Then she frowned. “Why are your eyes purple?”

He blinked. “They are?”

She nodded soberly.

I started whistling innocently, picking at my nails, which I needed to cut.

“Aw, fuck,” Fallen cursed.

I had my eyes narrowed on the entrance that Lady Ivy’s group had just come in through. I had a feeling that this wasn’t their full amount of members. And I was right. Wentz came out last, his eyes going straight for wherever Samantha was and staying there.

“Wentz…” I growled.

“Okay, who the fuck are you?” George asked me.

Jeremy suddenly popped up next to me with Balto at his side. “Hello Ryan, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Jeremy reached out and shook George’s hand then let it go soon after. George just stared dumbstruck at him. “I’m Jeremy. This is my good friend Caspian. He’s your little brother.”

“Subtle,” I commented.

“So they were telling the truth,” George said, looking me over. “Pete and Sam. You are my little brother. I thought you died all those years ago. I only got to see you a few times before you went missing. I was only six or seven, right?”

I nodded sharply. “Something like that.” I could feel my own hostility toward him making waves through the air. I was surprised George didn’t fall over.

“So you’re the Caspian Samantha kept talking about,” Wentz said, stepping
up to George’s other side, opposite the silent Jon. “I would shake your hand, but it seems we’re enemies or something.”

“Incorrect,” Jeremy suddenly said. “Listen. Cas—Caspian—believes that there
is a Guardian here working for the King of ‘Vampires’.” The two Ladies were conversing in front of the ornate double doors, so hopefully they couldn’t hear us. “We do not know if the Guardian is working by his or her own will or by force, but whoever he or she is, they’re powerful.”

Pete looked a bit weirded out.

“We’ve got to stick together to get out of this place,” Jeremy continued. “Fallen, Caspian and George are all purebreds. And Fallen’s in super-mode now or something. That’s good. Are you human?” Jeremy asked Jon.

He nodded after glancing at George, as if asking permission to speak. Too bad you weren’t here earlier, Jon. You would have beard my inspirational statement about this being America. We’re free! Or, at least, the humans are. And did I say that, or did I think it? I can’t remember for the life of me. Oh well… Still, Jon, you missed out.

“So we’ve got three purebreds, Jon the human, Pete the Guardian, Samantha the Guarded, Monty the Border Collie, Balto the half-wolf, and me, Jeremy, the obscenely
amazing ‘vampire’.” He smirked at all of us. “If it comes down to a fight, Pete, your objective is to get Samantha out of here. Jon, I don’t know what you’re useful for, but seeing as you’re human, I don’t think you’ll help all of us as much as hinder us.”

“Um, Jeremy,” Pete stated, “Jon’s kind of…a P-F-S-I-S.”

Dumb it down to level negative two, please.

“Oh my…” Jeremy said, brow creased. “I haven’t seen one of those in my lifetime, which is weird.”

“Alright, what the hell is a PQRS…whatever you said?” I asked Pete and Jeremy.

“The P stands for perpetually—” Jeremy started.

“It means Perpetually Following Spit-Induced Servant,” Pete said. “We don’t have much time. Those two Advisors or whatever the fuck they are look too calm to be normal. We may run into the Kind himself soon.”

“Good,” I said. “That’s what I came here for.”

“Um, Cas…”

I looked over my shoulder to see Samantha. “Hey, Samantha…” I turned around and she pulled me into a hug that sent my insides dancing, my skin to tingles and my brain into la-la land. I pulled myself back—with difficulty—and heard her whispering something.

“Whatever happens, don’t die on me, okay?”

I held her protectively against me. “And don’t you go snuff it today either, okay?”

She giggled into my shoulder. “You’re so weird.”

I frowned. “Is that a compliment?”

Monty wasn’t enjoying Samantha’s attention-hogging techniques.

“Yes, Cas. It’s a compliment.” Then she stood up as tall as she could and kissed my cheek. I retained my down-to-earth-ness, unlike last time. Speaking of last time, it seemed like a very long time ago—longer than it was, definitely. “Good luck.”

I snorted, but not rudely or anything. It actually sounded kinds cool. Oh! I remember now: scoffed. It’s not that far off, okay? “As if I need luck.”

She smiled at me, arms still around my neck.

“If there is any luck left for either of us, you take it,” I said. “I leech off everyone else’s, anyway.”

She shook her head. “If you say so, Cas. If you say so…”

I hugged her close one more time then let her go.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “Pete’s got Sam, Ryan’s got Jon, Balto’s got Monty”—the latter grumbled in his dog-mopey way—“and Cas, Fallen and I have got each other. We’re the three most advanced ‘vampires’ in here.”

“And how did Jon become a whatever-he-is?” I asked quickly.

“Drank my spit by accident,” George said, reaching into one of his boots for something.

I looked, alarmed, toward Samantha. Did I turn her into a PFLNZ or whatever
when we kissed?!

“Doesn’t work on a Guarded,” Jeremy whispered.

I sighed in relief, and George eyed me weirdly again.

“Caspian—” George started to say, but got cut off by Lady in Red.

“Okay, everyone, the King of ‘Vampires’ is expecting you.”

I watched in moderate fear as the two big black doors opened—by their own, it seemed—with the two Ladies standing with perfect poise in front of them. Monty whimpered quietly and I kneeled down next to him and pulled him into a hug. I looked a bit enviously at Jeremy and Balto who stood perfectly still next to each other; at Fallen, with his majestic *cough-cough* purple eyes, standing defensively next to Samantha; at George, Jon and Pete, countenances as stoic as a master poker player’s. And there I was, comforting a whiny dog. I sighed into Monty’s fur. “Whish me luck, boy. Despite what I said, I might just need it.”

I walked toward Lancaster, who was right behind the Ladies, Monty right on my heels. A blast of cold air swept over us all as the doors swung to full openness. Or whatever.

“Okay, I felt that,” I whispered in Lancaster’s ear. He put a finger to his lips in reply. I rolled my eyes. Then I remembered Lady in Red’s samurai sword I then shut up.

“State your names and business,” I bored-sounding male voice said as candles flickered to life in the room beyond the doors. The blast of air had put out the torches in this tunnel, so we all watched as the candles flared to life, one at a time, spiraling upward in a dizzying circle. The ceiling—or where the candles stopped—was about four stories tall. I think. I’m no expert in height. The room itself…oh, I can’t tell. I absolutely suck at measuring distances. It was big, alright? Not as big as a football field—far from it—but big for an underground room.

I could see approximately five Freaky McHorrifics prowling around the room in the candlelight. A raised platform took up the back third of the room. It went up about five feet and had just as many steps leading up to the throne at the top. The apparent King of “Vampires” was on that throne, and he just increased my feeling of this being Hogwarts Underground. He looked like flippin’ Igor Karkaroff from Durmstrang in the Goblet of Fire, AKA book cuatro. Except younger. And less ugly. His blackish wavy—almost curly—hair went down to his shoulders and I could see his flat black eyes from here. He wore a white suit with a cape around his throat. The interior of the cape was red and the outside was black. Wow. This guy read his books and watched his Hollywood movies. He also had a huge crown on. Weirdo.

Lady Ivy marched slowly up the stairs, and the King greeted her softly. I looked away as they did wifey and husbandly things. When they finished and as Lady Ivy started to answer to the King’s requests, my eyes were drawn to the left. This ring of tall white candles with gold sparkles in them—seriously; I should buy some of those—surrounded this young woman. She appeared to be about twenty. Let’s just say in her early twenties. She had brown hair. It was kinda light with darker streaks through it. I couldn’t see her eyes, as they were closed, and her skin was lightly tanned. She had this birthmark or something under her right eye. She looked like she was meditating. And the immense feeling of danger was coming from her. She—this girl—was the über powerful Guardian I’d been sensing. Crap. Prepare to be screwed.

Oh, and, no offense to girls.

Then, I looked closer at her. She had a big scar on the right side of her face. Hmm. Then I took in her right arm, neck, the bit of chest I could see, and even her right shin. They all had scars—lots and lots and lots—and they were all on the right side. Weird.

“Two of the Rosses…” His Kingliness said.

Last time I came here, two of his helpers—that didn’t appear to be in employment at this moment—took me to a private little restaurant place and I talked to the King with a walkie talkie. Then one of the helpers told me that the King’s place was in the back of the restaurant and what street it was on. Dumb little me. Well, hey, what can I do about it? The thing is, I preferred last time to this. And when I went with Logan and Tory and Kaitlin, we went in through the restaurant’s back door and walked down a staircase and stood in, presumably, this room with nice, good, old-fashioned blindfolds on. They may have been set up with something to keep them from being taken off, but at least they were slightly normal, y’know?

“Yes,” I said boldly, gazing straight into the King’s black eyes. “My brother and I are here.”

He nodded in my direction. “Caspian, am I right?”

I nodded back.

“I believe I gave you a mission not too long ago. I wanted the Chosen One among the humans, the one to continue the ‘vampire’ race.”

I felt everyone in our group of people, excluding Lancaster, stiffen. I, however, nodded. “I have done so. You see her, there. Her name is Samantha Royce. I believe I get a certain prize or…reward for bringing her here.”

The King nodded again. “Yes, that is true. So, tell me young Caspian, what is it that you want?”

I hate talking all old-fashioned. Blindfolds are good, but not this. Before you know it, I’ll be saying, “Pleaseth bequeath to me thy blessing, so I canneth go forth and conquer in my magnificent King’s name, and bringeth under thou a New Ageth in which thouith and I-ith reign in unprecedented peace-eth.”

“I want Samantha’s freedom.”

The whole place went cold—I mean colder, if that was possible.

“Do explain,” the King said, gazing with no emotion at me.

I took a deep breath. “You asked me to bring the Chosen One here, and said I would get a reward for going so. I have done so, and now for a reward, I want Samantha’s freedom.”

Silence.

“I…I want her to have a chance to live her life the way she wants to live it, no ‘vampire’ interference.”

The King leaned forward. “Caspina, this reward is supposed to be for you. Your benefit. Is a girl’s freedom from an unavoidable destiny what you really want?”

I bristled. Unavoidable destiny?

“He speaks his heart,” the girl in the circle of sparkly candles said before I could protest to the King’s wording.

The King’s eyes flashed red and he glared at the Guardian girl. The candles flared along with the King’s anger. “Be quiet, Hannah!”

She just sat in her meditative position as if nothing had happened.

“Samantha’s freedom is a reward for me,” I said.

The King’s eyes changed back to black as he said in a fake sweet voice, “Oh, Caspian… You’ve fallen in love, haven’t you?”

My cheeks flared up, no matter how indifferent I tried to seem. “Maybe,” I said quickly. “But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do something to try and retain Samantha’s normal lifestyle.”

“You could have not brought her to me," the King said, leaning his chin onto his right hand.

“You would have killed me!” I protested.

“So you should have died!” the King yelled, eyes flashing red again, the sparking candles not helping to alleviate the oppressive cold that lingered in this place.

“Caspian, watch out,” Wentz’s voice suddenly said. “This guy has had it in for you since he knew you were going to be born.”

I turned to look at the short Guardian. “Um, what?”

“Caspian,” Wentz said urgently, “your dad was King, as he was the last purebred of age to rule. Once he died, King Liam over there became King. You, George and
Fallen are your father’s heirs. Liam’s set on eliminating all of you.”

Lady Ivy was sitting on the King’s throne now, and King “Liam” or whatever—the guy who wanted my whole family’s heads on platters to match his crown—was standing partway down the stairs, eyes a dark almost maroonish red. The candles were back to normal.

“The Guardian speaks the truth.” Thanks for looking ashamed or at least showing a scrap of emotion, pal. Means the world to me. “I planned to eliminate the three of you—today, preferably. But then I found out something quite interesting. Only one of you is fit for the throne; only one of you is a real ‘vampire’.” He looked long and hard at all three of us, leaving Fallen for last. Purple eyes attractive, eh? “Tell me, what is the longest amount of time a ‘vamire’ can spend asleep per week?”

“Twenty hours,” I said readily. That had been drilled into me by Logan.

Fallen and George shrugged.

King Liam glared at me. “Correct.” He stepped down a stair. “What is an animal we ‘vampires’ simply cannot drink the blood of?”

“Ostrich,” I said. Logan had warned me about them and I had always made sure one was never in my vicinity since. Luckily I had never actually seen one in my life.

“Correct. What happens if a ‘vampire’ is to drink a Guardian’s blood?” Down another stair.

“You get bladder problems and smoker’s cough,” Fallen and I said together. I could imagine George wrinkling his nose. You know, now that I got a good look at him, I can see that I look quite a bit different from him now, one thing of course being hair length and color of clothes.

“Correct,” King Liam said. “Now. What is the most effective way to kill a ‘vampire’?” Down another stair. He had one foot on the floor now.

“It depends,” I stated. “Special abilities really decide how, though.”

“Can you give me an example?”

“Um…” I thought for a second. “A really tricky one would be someone who can see into the future. You’d need to just get into the fray with no plan and hope for a sudden inspiration that takes mere moments to execute. And, therefore, there is no ‘set’ way to kill a ‘vampire’.”

King Liam nodded. “Then it’s decided. You, Caspian Ross, are the true heir to the throne.”

My chest suddenly felt very heavy. Breathing seemed like a weird thing to do. “W-what?”

“You’re a true ‘vampire’, and a purebred. Therefore, you are the rightful heir to your father’s throne. And you’re number one on my…what do you call it…hit-list?” He smirked devilishly. “Girls, open fi—”

I think he was going to say “open fire”, but he got cut off. No pun intended, seeing as there seemed to be a blood-soaked blade protruding from King Liam’s chest. I didn’t even know what happened. And the one wielding the blade appeared to be Jeremy.

Lady Ivy jumped up and flitted at unable-to-be-seen speed to the King. I was still in shock at being told that I was the heir to my father, the King of “Vampires”. That’s a bit much, don’t you think?

I shook my head to clear it, then rushed forward. Jeremy had just fallen down, and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.

Lady Ivy was doing stuff to King Liam. I knew he was dead—his eyes had turned to a blue-gray color; his natural eye color.

“Jeremy, that was awesome,” I said, hearing some sort of commotion break out behind me. “What’s wrong?”

He took a shuddering breath. “The King…he had a protect…protective charm…or something…on him. The…the wound I inflicted upon him happened…to…me too.”

I looked at his shirt, to where his hand was clutching his chest, and saw red stuff spreading over his shirt and starting to dissolve it, like fast-acting acid rain.

“What?” I asked. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is…Cas.” Jeremy took another shuddering breath, but his face was calm. He suddenly stretched one arm forward and pressed two fingers to my temple. I felt something—I can’t really describe it—then Jeremy’s arm was back by him, hand on his bleeding chest.

“What was that?” My head felt a bit fuzzy

Jeremy took another shuddering breath. “Good luck, Cas…” A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Caspian…” Then a shiver ran down the length of his body and he took one more shuddering breath.

“Jeremy?” I scuttled on hands and knees toward him. “Jeremy? Dude? Oh, no, don’t die one me! Not funny!” He didn’t respond. “No… Oh hell no… Jeremy, you dumbass!” I slammed my fists into the ground. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, but I ignored it. “Jeremy…” I put my finger to his wrist, then two fingers to his neck. (Do “vampires” even have pulses?) Then I put my ear to the upper unwounded part of his chest.

Nothing.