Blood Isn't Always Thicker Than Water

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow morning—or afternoon, for that matter—don’t open the door if somebody knocks, okay?”

“’Kay. Who are we expecting?”

“I am expecting the first female to ever grace our doorstep.”

Jeremy’s blonde head poked into the bathroom.

“Not Samantha Royce.”

I smirked. “So Samantha Royce.” I held my towel safely to my body as I began to brush my teeth.

Jeremy closed his eyes (I saw it in the mirror) then opened them and said, “I’m not receiving any glimpses, so I can’t tell you if your idea is going to work or not.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. I know it will work. I’ve got all the preparations done and over with.”

Jeremy frowned. “I haven’t noticed a difference.”

I smirked again, slyly. “Exactly.”

I woke up to a ray of sunlight streaming into my pupils from one of those accursed slits in the window blinds. That and the doorbell.

“Agh!” I then cursed loudly and in extremely graphic detail while I flung on the outfit I had prepared the night before and wiped the sleep, gunk and repulsive crap out of my eyes.

In about forty-five seconds, I was finger-brushing my hair and dashing down the hall.

“Jeremy!” I exclaimed when I saw him standing in the open doorway with Samantha at the top of the steps. “I told you not to answer the door!”

“When someone knocked,” he said in a complete smartass tone. “They rang.”

I stopped in my tracks. “They?”

“Yeah, what does this look like?”

I looked out the doorway to see Samantha standing next to Dude With Blue Highlights.

Oh. This was unexpected.

“Well, um, welcome, Samantha and…Fallen?”

The guy nodded, and followed Samantha into the house.

Samantha looked at me and asked, “Why is this place called Jeremy’s if that’s not your name?”

“Long story,” I said, ushering her and Fallen into the living room.

“Not only that, but you’d probably get lost in circles along the way,” Jeremy added before smacking headfirst into the wall.

Samantha and Fallen looked at me for an explanation, obviously creeped out.

“Uh, he’s partially blind.”

“Ah,” Samantha said, looking back at Jeremy, who was rubbing his head and muttering under his breath. I’d rather not repeat what he said.

“Uh, give me a second. I’ll be right back. Take a seat,” I said, motioning for Samantha and Fallen to sit on the couch that faced the wall opposite the doorway. They did, and Samantha placed her bag on the small coffee table I had taken from Logan’s in front of her.

While they weren’t facing me, and attempting to start conversation with Jeremy—I think—I went back to the front door and locked it with four locks, three of which I had bought the day before. The windows were nailed shut, too. Every last one of ‘em.

It was foolproof.

When I came back, there was a silence hanging over the room that felt sort of uncomfortable.

“So,” Fallen said to me, craning his neck to look at the sparse furniture a bit. “Where’s the studio?”

Up your butt and around the corner.

“If you would just follow me…” I was pounding my brain to pieces trying to think of what to do. There were two humans in here, and Jeremy would be no help.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

“Never mind,” Fallen said. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Jeremy!” I called. He walked back into the living room from the hallway.

“You called?”

“Could you take Fallen upstairs and to the bathroom?”

Fallen looked like would much rather have me take him.

“Sure thing!” Jeremy said excitedly, and beckoned for Fallen to follow him. He did so with much reluctance.

Samantha had raised an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged. “Jeremy’s extremely odd.”

She nodded. “Well, where is the studio?”

“Oh yeah. Follow me.” I led her over to the downstairs bathroom. She followed like a lost sheep.

“Right in-”

I grabbed her arm and flung her inside, roughly. I heard a thunk as she landed somewhere, then I shut the door with a BAM and locked it with eight locks.

“-there!”

Try n’ get out of that, Miss Elusive!

I turned to see Jeremy staring at me. Well, where I had been two seconds ago.

“Did you just do…what I think you did?”

“Well, that depends. What do you think I did?”

“I think you just shoved Samantha Royce into a bathroom and locked her in.”

“Very good, Jeremy. That’s exactly what I did.”

“Caspian Ross, you are the strangest ‘vampire’ I have ever met.”

“But you know you love me.”

“‘Vampire’?” I heard a voice ask weakly.

I looked over Jeremy’s shoulder to see Fallen frowning.

“Uh…” I was more stuck than before. Like bubble gum in hair when there’s no peanut butter around.

“Fallen, there are some things we need to tell you,” Jeremy said, turning to face Fallen.

“What are you doing?!” I asked Jeremy in a hoarse whisper, turning him by the shoulder so I could look at his face.

“He deserves to know,” Jeremy said in his rarely-used authority-like voice.

I frowned at him, but let him go. I trusted the guy, but I didn’t think telling Fallen what we were was wise.

Fallen frowned deeper. “Where’s Sam?”

I smirked. “The bathroom.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding a little relieved. Then he frowned again. “Why are there…
eight locks on the door?”

I shrugged. “Safekeeping.”

Fallen suddenly looked murderous. “Let her go!” He ran at me, but Jeremy—of all people—got in the way and stopped him. “What do you want with her?!”

“Fallen?”

“Sam?”

“Yes!”

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you out of there!” Fallen looked venomously at me when he said this. I just walked to him and wrapped my arms around him in an iron-like embrace, pinning his arms to his sides.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?!” Fallen was extremely confused by my strength.

“Making sure you stay still, and carrying you over to this couch,” I said calmly, carrying the tall guy to the mentioned couch. He felt surprisingly…heavy. Oh well.

“Now, Fallen, listen carefully,” Jeremy said as I put the guy down then gave him a look that said, “If you even think about moving I’ll put you through a paper shredder, cut each piece in half with a diamond-edged saw and feed you to Jeremy”.

I think he understood it.

“Let me begin with this.” Jeremy sat on the coffee table that Sam’s bag was on, making it creak in a way that made me think it would collapse soon. “Do you know who both of your parents are?”

Fallen frowned at Jeremy, as did I. Then Fallen shook his head. “My mom is Lydia Royce. She doesn’t remember who my dad is. She was drunk when I was…conceived.”

Poor guy.

Jeremy didn’t look surprised in the slightest. “Would you like to know who your
father is?”

Fallen’s jaw dropped to the core of the Earth. “What?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Your father is George Ryan Ross.”

“He’s twenty-three,” Fallen said, looking disturbed. I was, too. My older brother had been a father since he was five? Isn’t that impossible?

“No, not that one. George Ryan Ross the second.”

I stared at Jeremy. “No way.”

Fallen snorted. “Bullshit.”

Now I stared at Fallen. “You’re my half brother?”

Fallen wrinkled his nose and looked down at me. I was sitting next to him. “What?”

“Ross the second is my father, too,” I said in wonder, staring at Fallen some more. “Ross the third is my brother.”

“You do look a hell of a lot like him, but this is impossible!” Fallen exclaimed, starting to stand up. I gave him the Paper Shredder Look again, and he thought better of moving.

“No, it really isn’t,” Jeremy said calmly. I could imagine him “stroking his beard” as he said this. “Ross the second was a pretty careless ‘vampire’. Died from alcohol addiction or something, I think.” He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure.”

“Hold up.” Fallen actually put his hands up, palms forward, like he was stopping traffic. “Ross the second—his father—my father—was a…‘vampire’?”

Jeremy and I nodded. “We’re ‘vampires’,” Jeremy informed Fallen like it was an ordinary everyday thing for the guy to hear. “You are, too. The gene is passed on through the male line—”

“I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK!” Fallen proclaimed. “Just let Sam out of the fucking bathroom and let us leave!”

“Can’t do that,” I said, adding in a little sad note to my voice. “Sam’s a needed presence.” Wow, that made me sound like a really freaky.

“Why?” Fallen asked hopelessly, looking at me with pleading eyes. “Why do you need her? Could you take me instead?”

I shook my head. “She’s been chose for something. No one can replace her.”

“Why was she—out of ALL the people in the world—chosen?”

“No one knows,” Jeremy said. “But she’s been marked down since the moment she was born. You know how she’s an only sibling?”

“Yeah.”

“And she has a gold stripe through one eye?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s it,” Jeremy said, his eyes closed, the picture of ease. “Those traits mark her out as the chosen one. No one and nothing can change it, even if she dies.”

That thought made me feel sad. The dying thing.