Blood Isn't Always Thicker Than Water

I withdrew and felt more tears slide down my face as I stared disbelievingly at my friend, his blood slowly but steadily fizzling away the fabric of his clothes. “No way…”

Monty and Balto came up on either side of me. Monty licked at my tears and I butted his snout away. “No, boy. Leave me alone.”

Balto got into a lying-down position and whined, nuzzling his nose through the unkempt blonde hair.

I reached out and hugged Monty. My face rubbed roughly against his fur as I cried for my closest, dearest friend. He had seemed immortal. How could he just leave like that?

“Oh no…” I felt someone kneel down next to me, and I recognized the voice as Samantha’s. “Jeremy… Oh, Cas, I’m so sorry.”

I held Monty closer. He whined along with me as I began sobbing into his coat. I remembered the first time I met him, in Rick Ricardo’s attic. He was the hated one among five homeless “vampires”. He told me, “Caspian Ross… I’ve been waiting for you.” Then we went home and he fell in the trash can and walked into walls. He led me through the treacherous minefield my life was for a while, and then this had to go and happen. It wasn’t fair.

But life is cruel. We’ve got to deal with it.

I pulled my face out of Monty’s fur and wiped my eyes. I looked at Jeremy again. “Sorry, man. It was too soon. Good luck to you, too.”

I kill everyone I come into contact with.

That could actually be used to my advantage…

I stood up and Monty shook out his coat. I looked at Samantha. She was kneeling, staring at Jeremy, tears streaming down her face. “Samantha?”

She looked up at me with reddened eyes.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but please don’t get hurt.”

She nodded and looked back at Jeremy, absently stroking Balto as he whined for his master.

I turned around and saw that Ivy was in hand-to-hand combat with Fallen. I couldn’t tell who had the upper hand. I’m saying “hand” too much. Jon was pressed up against a candle-free section of the wall alongside Lancaster. George was using some sort of football style shoving technique to keep Lady in Red from getting to King Liam and the shocked-out-of-her-mind Ivy. Ah, so Jeremy had used Lady in Red’s sword to kill the King. It was sitting next to his corpse, extracted by Ivy. Why hadn’t Jeremy used his gun…?

Thinking of it, I carefully pulled it out from…the place it was. No details there. I turned the weapon over and over in my hands. Then I pivoted my torso around to see that Wentz was talking to the Guardian girl—Hannah, I think—and leading her out of the ring of candles. So I guess she was forced to work for King Liam after all.

I gripped the gun firmly in my right hand, then walked up the five stairs.

“Cas? Cas…what are you doing?” I heard Samantha follow me slowly.

I sat down on the throne, then closed my eyes, letting my right hand lie over the gun that rested on the large arm of the oversized chair.

I am the heir. The heir to George Ryan Ross II, the true “Vampire” King. I had to believe it. I’m Caspian Ross, son of the King of “Vampires. This is my rightful place. I am… I am.

My eyes shot open. I bolted upright, the gun left on the arm of the throne as I stood. Unimaginable power was surging into me. Or was I realizing power I already possessed? I’d rather it be the former. My eyes were open, but I wasn’t seeing much. Then, one moment later, I shook myself and snapped out of it.

“Caspian fucking Ross!” George yelled. “Do something!” Lady in Red was slowly starting to overpower George. Sadness.

I looked at Samantha and said, “Lemme guess; my eyes are black.” She nodded, looking thoroughly crept out. She was shivering, too. I sighed and gave her this cape that had randomly appeared on the throne. It was plain black, but strangely silky to the touch and it reflected the candlelight a bit. She smiled gratefully and slipped it over her shoulders. Then I whistled for Monty. “Let’s go, boy.” I bounded down the steps in, like, two milliseconds, then rammed head-on into Lady in Red’s side. I felt something break in her body as she got flung into the wall, a bunch of candles falling back to Earth with her.

“Um, thanks,” George said uncertainly, looking at me weirdly. He did that too much.

“You’re welcome," I said flatly, then rushed off to help Fallen as the candles and burning clothes took care of Lady in Red. I glanced at the Guardians and saw that Hannah seemed to be doing a sort of victory dance as Pete dragged her toward Samantha.

I stood next to Fallen during a quick breather-like pause the two combatants—Fallen and Lady Ivy—shared. “Lady Ivy, do you really want to oppose both of us?”

She looked carefully into my eyes, then she took down her guard. “No, Your Highness.” She bowed her head.

I looked at Fallen. His eyes were still purple. “Do you want to finish her off?”

He nodded toward me. “Gladly.” He lashed out, and let’s just say that Lady Ivy was down for the count. “She’s just unconscious,” Fallen told me. “Do you want her dead?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to watch one of my subjects die when I haven’t seen her commit any sort of crime.” Lady in Red enslaved one of my friends. And I didn’t like her. Yes, fear my justice.

Fallen nodded. “So. Are you King now, or what?”

I faced him. “No. I am not.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Um, what?”

“I’m not King. ‘Vampires’ have just as much of a right to freedom as humans. But since I don’t want to be called President, I’m Prince.”

“Prince Caspian. Well, now I know I’m in a classic fictional novel.”

I smirked at him. “It does have a kind of ring to it, doesn’t it?” No more Caspian the Captor!

We laughed together for a second, then I sobered up. “Fallen…Jeremy’s dead.”

He deflated. “What?”

“You heard me.” My eyes were now glued to the ground. Figuratively.

“Aw, crap.” He turned away from me to see for himself. “Shit.”

I gave him a couple pats on the shoulder then left him to his thoughts. Monty trotted up to me and I kneeled down in front of him.

“I’m Prince of ‘Vampires’ now, boy.”

His tongue lolled out of his mouth. He always seemed to be smiling happily.
I shook my head. “You know, you’ve been absolutely useless throughout this entire time.”

He just blinked at me, smiling lopsidedly.

Hannah the Guardian deactivated all of her rat-illusions so I could roam the tunnels without needing to worry about getting attacked at any random time. I was checking everywhere for anyone or anything that I wanted out of this place, like King Liam’s workers or maybe prisoners.

I had some sort of internal map in my head. I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I knew I wouldn’t get lost. Gee, even as Prince I don’t make any sense.

Monty loped alongside me, tongue flopping all over the place, eyes bright. He had been utterly confounded when a rat he had been sniffing disappeared from right under his nose five minutes ago. He had whined and looked to me for help. All I could do was shrug.

I found another door—there were simply too many of them down here—and opened it with a bored air. I had been searching this place for well over an hour. Everyone else was probably lounging in taxis, except Lady Ivy. I wonder what she’d think when she found out she was headed for the western coast.

I had already buried Jeremy under the very spot where he died—where he slayed the King of “Vampires”—where he most likely saved my life. There was no marker, but that was how Jeremy had lived his life. No one knew who he was or what he did unless he chose for it to be known to them. Everyone’s memories of him would suffice, and I couldn’t imagine him wanting this any other way.

I opened the plain metal door and jumped in surprise as something burst into flames. “Bless Jeremy’s deceased cataracts,” I mumbled as I stared through the darkness in the room to see this rectangle in the ground of flames. There were glowing coals at the bottom, and they were maybe an inch higher than the floor.

“Interesting…”

I jumped again and turned my gaze to wherever the voice had come from. “Show yourself,” I said, but I could detect a bit of a shake in my voice. And that was not supposed to happen! I’m the flippin’ Prince of ‘Vampires’ now. My voice does not shake. “I’m King Liam’s successor, Prince Caspian,” I continued, voice under control. “I command you to show yourself.”

“Oh, I would have anyway. I’m a sworn servant of the ‘Vampire’ Kings and whatever. You’re pretty young to have such a stinkin’ high rank. What’s your name?”

I felt something slither over my shoulder. I almost screamed “SNAKE!” and jumped into the flames, but remembered my newly acquired “stinkin’ high rank” and managed to stay calm. “If I tell you my name, will you tell me yours?”
“Making deals already? Oh ho ho, we’ve got a feisty one this time around…”
Now something else was slithering and twining around my right leg, but the voice was coming from my left… The light was so dim I couldn’t see anyone, but I thought I saw a bit of an outline of at least something. But no promises there.

The voice was kind of…slippery. And fun to listen to. It sounded pretty masculine, but I wasn’t positive the speaker was male.

“You’ve got it. Tell me about you, I’ll tell you about me.”

The voice was getting distinctly closer…

Determined not to sound rushed, I started talking. “I’m Caspian Ross. I’m the successor of King William. I’m called Prince Caspian because I want the ‘vampire’ population to be as free as the humans, but I don’t want to be called President. It makes me sound old. So I guess I’ll be turning the ‘vampire’ government into a republic or a democracy or something. I’ve never taken any sort of class on government—let alone any sort of class at all—so I literally don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” I paused. “Well, yeah. Your turn.”

A slick laugh reached my ear. “I like you, Princey. I really do.”

Oh man.

“I don’t really have a name, since I was brought up in these tunnels by the random maid or helper or whatever. Then King Ross—your daddy, I presume—asked me if I waw-ned ta stay here. I said, ‘Sure,’ so I got sworn in as every King’s personal servant. And here I am!”

I frowned. “So…what can I call you?”

“You’re not gonna have me killed or shut up in a cage or something?” Whoever it was sounded fascinated.

“Nah. If you’re a sworn personal servant for me, I’m not gonna lock you up somewhere. How’d you like to come with me to the west coast?”

Now the voice sounded absolutely intrigued. “…Me, leave here? I don’ even know where or what this ‘west coast’ is, Princey! I know nuthin’ outside o’ these tunnels.”

“Well then, you need a taste of the real world. I don’t ever want to see this place again, anyway. So the only way for you to keep your status as the ‘Vampire’ Prince’s personal servant is to come with me. So how ’bout it?”

“Oh, Princey, you’re gonna come back here someday. I guarantee it. Ol’ Rossy waw-ned tuh leave here too, but ’ee din’t. ’Ee told me it was somethin’ about this room.”

I took an experimental step toward the thing that seemed to be looking more and more like a serious bed of flames. The snaky whatevers around me let me move, which was good. But they didn’t let go. I picked up a book that seemed to have been placed hastily on a small table that I could now see. And I had a strange feeling in me saying that I had known that all along, which was weird. I attributed it to my new stinkin’ high rank.

“If the room’s the problem, I’ll bring it, piece by fuckin’ piece, even if it takes years, over to Idaho. Yeah, I should move back into Logan’s manor…” I trailed off and Servant Dude or Dudette (doesn’t that mean cow poop?) didn’t say anything back.

The book was a black hardcover and the owner’s name was roughly engraved on the back. I snorted as I managed to read it in the faint light from the Flaming Bed. KING WILLY.

Wow. I guess this is the Royal Bedroom or something.

I saw there were three more books on the small table. Shrugging to myself, not even bothered by the cords of unknown stuff draped over and around me, I picked up one of the three on the table. This second one had KING WILLY engraved on the back in a child’s handwriting, and the two books were the same size and one was thicker than the other. The first was the thickest, but not by a gigantic margin. Both of the books were larger than any I had read. The first was also the one with a bookmark.

I turned them over and held them a bit closer to the Flaming Bed to read the silvery titles on the covers.

“Damn…” I whispered.

Flickering in the firelight were three words making up the two books’ titles: Eclipse and Breaking Dawn.