Bloodlust

T H I R T E E N

The ball was a bunch of questions Vincent didn't want to answer. Grell kept her promise and answered most of the questions for him. Telling people he was shy and all of that. One vampire in particular was drawn to Vincent and he didn't understand why. Viscount Druitt, or so he said.

"You don't seem like a vampire," he said, staring Vincent in the eyes carefully.

"You don't seem like a Viscount, but here we are," Vincent replied. Adrian clutched his arm, trying to warn him.

"Excuse me?"

"You're more than welcome to leave," Vincent said. Grell couldn't help but snicker. Viscount Druitt frowned.

"This isn't the last you'll see of me," Viscount Druitt turned on his heel and left.

"Oh yes, be sure to tell Duke Grey and Duke Phipps all about me, my dear Viscount. I'd be thrilled to meet them," Vincent called after him. No time like the present to make enemies of elite vampires. If that was what elite was, he wanted no part in it.

"You're going to get yourself slaughtered at least a dozen times," Grell laughed. "No taming the Earl Phantomhive. You're just as aggravating as the first day we met." Grell waved over a vampire with the same shade of hair as her.

"This is my brother, Sir Red," Grell gestured.

"Pardon my breasts, Earl Phantomhive, my sister and I haven't found a satisfactory way of swapping bodies yet," he said, with a slight bow.

"I doubt I will ever meet two people so suited for this color than you both," Vincent admitted. They both blushed and looked away. Vincent, always the flatterer.

The whispers surrounding them hushed with silence. A pin could drop and no one would dare notice it. A hooded figure with a cane in his hand walked into the room. "True Alpha," Grell couldn't help but let the words escape her lips. Hushed murmurs of repetition traveled among the vampires. It had been many a millennia since the last sighting of the true alpha, one of the last remaining original vampires in existence. The last one to refrain from eternal slumber.

He walked with a grace no vampire could imitate. A walk that took thousands of lifetimes to perfect. His footsteps too quiet to hear. He directed his attention to Vincent. He cupped Vincent's face in his hands and said two words that would never be forgotten. "My successor."

A gust of powerful wind threw the window open, forcing the hood off of the true alpha. An albino, missing one eye, smiled. The vampires averted their gaze, no one was allowed to gaze upon the true alpha's face without permission. Vincent did. He saw. The male struck his cane against the ground of his home.

"Bear witness to my official claiming of Vincent Phantomhive as my heir. My time among you is coming to a close. Soon I shall seek eternal slumber like my brethren," the true alpha explained. He turned and he began to walk out, "Come," he said. Vincent followed. Adrian felt Vincent's arm leave his side. He wanted to go too. "Both of you," the true alpha clarified. Adrian returned his grip on Vincent's arm. They walked out. Many minutes passed before the chatter returned. Grell's heart had nearly stopped. To think his darling boy and his son in-law were going to become so high up in the food chain. Vincent truly was destined for great things. No wonder Grell had been asked to bring Adrian here by the messenger cat.

The true alpha guided the two through the many hallways of the giant palace to a certain room in the depths of the darkest part. Fire churned in the fireplace. The true alpha tore of his cloak and let out a sigh as he sunk into the chair. He was dressed in something unfitting for a vampire king. Purple and white, two colors that were the opposite of the darkness of the night. His single red eye reflected the fire well. Adrian was still trying his best not to look at him without permission.

"All of these vampire customs were beyond me. Who invented this anyway?" the true alpha sighed and waved his hand. "Adrian don't bother yourself with those strange traditions. Feel free to stare as much as you like. In fact, it's better that you do, I have need of a good coffin."

"A coffin?" Adrian questioned. What did he look like? An undertaker?

"One of those silly things. The next in line's wife makes the coffin for the previous king," the true alpha explained. "Enough of that," he sighed again. "My name is Xerxes, or, it was, maybe it was Kevin, Xerxes is a much better name. Let's go with Xerxes. Enough of this 'true alpha' this and 'true alpha' that. I'm sick of it, truly, and you can have your fill until the next one comes along after you." A meow of a cat came from the corner of the room. A male, with long arms, giant claws, cat ears and a tail, walked right over to Xerxes and sat on his lap, purring. He had the eye that Xerxes missed.

"This is Cheshire, not that anyone every bothered to learn the 'true alpha messenger's' name. You'll get one of your own messengers in time. Stop looking so confused. I'll explain everything required of you as we go. Of course, you did get quite the title leap. Lowly son of man, fake earl, and now prince of the vampire kingdom. How do you feel? Vincent Phantomhive?" Xerxes laughed. Adrian hid behind Vincent's back.

"Don't think I don't know about your illegal act, Adrian. I know all of the acts my children do," Xerxes pet Cheshire's head. His eye still reflecting the fire. "That's part of the reason I chose him, after all, you can't trust an old vampire to do a new vampire's job. Especially one that has forgotten the yearning of Death like all of those fakes out there," Xerxes stared into the fire with an expression Vincent knew well. The wish to die that could never be granted. All he could do was sleep for the rest of his eternity. That was the closest a vampire could ever have to meeting Death.

"I've always lacked the ability and motivation to change most of the things about the vampire world. I do hope you can fix these things that I could not. Make it a safe place for my dear Grell and Red," Xerxes sighed, just like a father that could do nothing for his children would sigh. "I was and simply never will be fit for the crown of a king. My life was one meant for a clown."

"That's not true!" Adrian insisted. He knew nothing about Xerxes but wished to refute his statement anyway. Cheshire jumped out of Xerxes's lap so he could stand. The king walked over to Adrian.

"What would you know?" his voice was not raised but the intensity of his gaze was strong enough to make Adrian's knees give out. He clutched Vincent to remain standing.

"I apologize," Xerxes held a hand to his forehead. "My old age has made me quite temperamental. This is about as much excitement as I can handle for tonight. You will live here, with me, as I train you. And then, one day, I shall retreat to the hall of kings and slumber with the rest."

Cheshire opened the door and gestured for the two to leave. Vincent and Adrian stood in the hallway staring at each other. That clearly didn't happen, right? Impossible. Why would that happen? They wandered the halls, searching for the answers to their many questions. No answers came. There wasn't a single sound.