Fullmoon: Ok, it's finally time. The first chapter that has us both there, Zubin and Aibhlinn. Sweetness. If for some reason I go against something that happens in Dee's chapter 4, please point it out. Then I can make her change hers. JK

The Order of Blood

Zubin's Fate

Chapter Four: The Ceremony

The remainder of the flight was unremarkable. Well, except for the small fire and two senior citizens getting caught trying to join the mile high club. Like I said, unremarkable.

Sandor almost jumped off his rocker until I promised I would talk to Darcy's daughter at the ceremony. Then he made me read the page on her. Why he wanted me to know her favorite fruit was beyond me. At least then he gave me back my Southpark book. Then, it was just four hours of reading. Then there was blah blah blah, buckle your seat belts, blah, get your carry on, blah blah, please leave the plane. It was boring as hell, so it must have been normal procedure.

The cool thing was stepping outside the airport. You couldn't even see the sun setting, the buildings were so big. Every thing was gleaming, sparkling steel. Back home, there was wood and stone. It was awesome!

Sandor pulled me away with a "stop worshiping the buildings and get back to reality Zubin."

"Hey! It's not my fault the highest building in the place I grew up was only five stories. And besides, I've never seen this much metal in one place before! And where are we supposed to bottom go, anyways? It already 8:00, so that means we have about two hours before the Turning starts to get ready, unless we want to wear jeans and T-shirts to the Turning." I said, wondering if I could.

"You're right. Look for the limo I got for us to get to the hotel with." He half snarled. Sandor has this major neurosis about always being on time. Always. Before he kicked out the help from the castle, they would only say that he lost someone he loved because of being a second too late. Now he is always on time or earlier, if he can mange. It sounded sad, but I didn't truly understand death, and I slightly doubted them. They also said Sandor used to love playing board games!

Anyways I took a glance to the left and right, not seeing anything close to a limo. Besides, even if we did find the limo, Sandor might yell at them enough for them to speed off into the night, so either way we weren't getting one. Sandor let out a creepy snarl and ran off down the street searching for the limo.

"Stay there Zubin!" He called as he turned a corner to check the other side of the building. The second he left I started walking in the opposite direction. This would be my only chance to get a look at the town. One of the big differences was how many people there were. I've never seen a crowded sidewalk, and in this town the roads were packed with cars, people jutting in and out of traffic to get to the other side. Man, this place is pretty packed for an island. A black coated stranger tackled me and automatically went back to his jog-walk, hardly even jerking his head in apology. There were people of every culture and race. A Japanese couple wrapped in fur coats that looked stuffed with hundred dollar bills was dragging a toddler, screaming her head off as kids do. Following them at a distance enough to prevent embarrassment but not lose them was a girl about my age. She had a similar features as the family she was walking with, but she looked a bit more sunned, like she spent a couple hours more at the beach than the rest. She flashed me a small smile, acknowledging my existence before skipping back to her mom. I turned back to the buildings and burst out laughing.

The entrance of the Waterman Hotel, the place the limo was taking us to, was staring me right in the face. Its door was two sets of revolving doors, each double plated glass with an oak frame, the only natural inclusion. All of the other twelve floors was cold cruel metal and harsh window. I'm not one for superstition, but you just seem like you are asking for it when you make a building thirteen stories tall. High above me, overlooking the roof, were three monstrous gargoyles. Their details of horror and pain seen even from the ground floor made me wonder if they were once living beings that got hit by the sun. Nah. Gargoyles only live in continental Europe.

Just then was when Sandor decided to scare the bejesus by grabbing my shoulder. I had him in a chicken wing before I'd even recognized him. I released him from the hold and he dusted off his shirt before looking at me again.

"You're slower than usual. And you didn't hold me tight enough. And what did I tell you about staying in that spot." he said, anger not yet creeping into his voice. "Well, no matter, as I have found the limo and we can make our way to the Waterman."

"Already there." I replied with a nod to the hotel. Sandor followed my gaze up the big sign that said in large, sickening cursive, The Waterman. He straightened his posture more than is humanly necessary, his way of showing embarrassment, and walked back to wave away the limo. A second or two passed and I was suddenly jostled from behind. I turned around quickly, but could only spot a dark green jacket swallowed by the crowd. My brain tried to tell me that jacket was familiar, but I couldn't remember from where.

By the time I gave up, Sandor started to guide me into the hotel. I took in one last wondrous glance of my first big city and entered the revolving doors.

It was an hour until the Turning starts, and already was it starting to be my least favorite day of the year. My suit was steamed cleaned, taking up half my bed, mocking my attempts to look dashing and clan leader like. I grudgingly stuck them on, sure everyone, adults and peers alike, would see what a fake I was. Walking to the suite's living room was torture, the threads that this morning held the tag on my shirt brushing my neck with each step.

The Turning was a magically ancient tradition, at least five hundred years old. Old king of the blood drinker, Irochas Darcy, held many over important traditions for the Turning. It's held the night of the shortest day of the year, so it's nice and dark for our graduation to full night stalker. You experience it when you are sixteen, as half a millennia of puberty is a little cruel, and not long after puberty a born vampire's genes force a Turning upon us. For normal vampires, that's deadly, but for clans, their kids will probably have a few weeks of intense pain. Luckily, Darcy isn't a Darwinist, so we pick a partner, bite each other, let the blood mingle, then we're vampires.

All that crap is fine, but there's also the tradition of wearing something from the era of the first Turning. I won't be the only one wearing custom made 15th century garb, as only a handful of vamp families have lived that long. I'll just be the only clan member. I'm the first guy of the Bathory clan, so we don't have five hundred year old men's clothes. And Sandor said I wouldn't be let in if I strut in sporting jeans.

Sandor is already out the door, so I jog out to see him holding open the elevator door. Three trips cause by my replica boots, and I hobble into the door as it clicks closed. Sandor overlooks my clumsiness, as I swore I would walk back to Romania if he made fun of me. I balance on the balls of my feet to counteract dreaded elevator boredom. Sandor coughs and is about to insult my lack of patience when the door parts and we both walk briskly to the waiting limo.

The ten minute ride to the Turning's path is a nightmare, Sandor spouting off achievements of the clan leaders, and how many kids are coming. My fingers repeatedly try to turn on my ipod, despite my pants being sans pockets. Even with the chilly air, my forehead felt damp with sweat. Sandor and I both waited for a few minutes after the limo got us to where we needed to walk, for me to get my nerves up.

As we got out of the car, I saw the tiny pinpricks of light down the road showing more people arriving. I got shivers and started a power walk down the path, Sandor right behind me. Halfway down the path and I still hadn't thrown up. I had stopped sweating, and was now looking forward to seeing all the clan leaders for the first time when my senses went wacko.

Pain hurts. That was my only thought as the headlights from a hundred yards became spotlights half a yard away. The scratching of the trees were power saws on full power jabbed into my ears. My tongue itched with the taste of every cheap perfume of every girl within a half mile. Moldy lilacs, tangy lemons, sickly honeysuckles. My nose was shriveling up from the olfactory attack. Then, as quick as it started, it stopped.

I didn't seem to even show any sign of pain, I was even still walking. I opened my eyes, and tripped over an obvious root sticking from the ground. Unluckily for me, nobody paves a path in the woods that's only used once a year. When I was back on my feet, my shirt looked more brown than white, and Sandor looked redder than a tomato.

"Zuuuuubiin!! How can you have gotten THIS dirty THIS close to your first meeting with the clan leaders!" He snarled, but I was already in ignore mode when I noticed that not all evidence from my vamp sense adventure was gone. I could still hear way more than is usual. Not as much as before, but way more than human at least. Like a mom whining to her son about the clan leader's daughter. And the girl just plain whining to her mom. Especially the inhuman shriek of oh my gods from somewhere to the left.

"Weird" I muttered to myself.

"That's right! It is weird that you can't even keep yourself from getting dirty before the biggest night of my life." retorted Sandor, failing to see my vacant look. "Come on, Zubin, we can at least stop you from being dirty, and late! Zubin? I said come ON!" and with that, Sandor gripped my shoulder and started to power walk towards the clearing, muttering a bunch of stuff I didn't even comprehend. Then it seemed like a flash before I was there, right in front of the eleven most powerful vampires in existence. Talk about stage fright.

All of them seemed to just glare, as if I would sprout claws and attack at any moment. Sandor just gave a small bow to Darcy and shied off to the side. I stifled the part of my brain that wanted to cower behind him, and kept my eyes on the clan leaders. I suddenly felt like I should have ran home and dry cleaned my suit, just to stop their slight disgust when looking at me. Darcy suddenly took a small step forward and let out a voice deeper than I remembered.

"We, as you know, are the Clan leaders. We together rule the earth's vampires, and I rule the clan leaders. Fifteen hundred years I have ruled, and in that time I have chosen eleven worthy people that showed the ability to handle the pressure. But I have made mistakes. Elizabeth Bathory was strong, and independent. She was my fourth turning, after my friend, my wife, and Lord Winchester. She was a good person, but vain. Her power corrupted her heart, and she killed to satisfy."

"She was the first and only vampire executed. I still remember turning away from her tower for the last time, as she screamed she would return and destroy me." Darcy spoke low, as the people were starting to pile in on the other side of the large clearing. What Darcy just said seemed to be familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. "I and the other leaders had discussions about the fate of the Bathory clan for five years. Some demanded we divide up the land, while other's pleaded for a new leader. That was when your mother came to us. She, headstrong and purposeful, claimed that she was the heir to Lordship, and that she would not relent with their families name in shambles. She was eighteen, yet she challenged me to a duel, to decide the fate of her Clan. I refused, but she would not back down, not without a chance to prove herself."

"I decided to give the Bathorys one chance. I called my eldest son and gave both were given a dagger. First to draw blood was the victor. My son had studied weapons since before his Turning. He did not want to fight a child, with but a year of training, but I commanded it. The fight was over a soon as it started. My son quickly disarmed her and sheathed his dagger. He believed that, as she was a woman, she would be grateful he didn't hurt her. He gave her a hand up and tried to shake her hand, thankful he did not have to cut her. She stole his dagger and swiped his hand with a painless scratch before he knew what happened. As my son stood in shock, the blood dripped onto the ground while I declared her the winner and leader of the Bathory Clan. Your mother worked her best to restore your name, for three hundred years. Now, you will follow your mother's footsteps as the leader of Clan Bathory." He declared. I took a moment to regain my resolve before nodding. "Very well. Then we will talk again after the Turning. Now go join your peers, before it begins." My body seemed to work on autopilot as I walked slowly back to the group. I could tell Darcy was again speaking, but I was still trying to take in what he told me.

My mom did so much; she won back our leadership, against the king's oldest son! How am I supposed to do what she did?! She was amazing and I was just boring and useless. How could I ever do something that brave? Be that important. My inner monologue was interrupted by a random girl running up to me.

"Hey, my name is Sophie. Want to be partners, with benefits?" She said, in a way that reminded me of Cami. I didn't know for sure, but I had a good feeling about what the, 'benefits', were.

"Umm. Soffay? I don-"

"Oh. My. Gawd! Your accent is, like, so sexy!" She purred, trying to get even closer to me. I took a big step back.

"I'm sorry Soffay, but I need to go talk to my guardian!" I said, slowly walking backwards into a huge group of people.

"Okay, but I WILL see you later, my foreign fox!" she called out as I hid in the knot of people. Hoping I wouldn't gag too much, I started to walk even farther away from Sawfee, or whatever her name is. Then another random girl quickly smacked into to me, then ran off with just a hurried excuse me.

"Slow down loser! Have you ever actually heard of someone who didn't get a partner before the hour was up?" I called to her, and then started to push through these fanatics. I shoved a pair of neckers hoping their parents won't see them, who didn't even notice how disgusting they were being, and then I finally got out. As I stood trying to get breathe back I heard a very high-pitched, familiar voice.

"Oh… my…. Gods," Cried the girl in front of me. Her dark raven hair was wild, dotted with leaves and twigs, like she lost a fight with a hedge. Her blue eyes shined with fear as she looked at me, so unlike the child I met when we were seven. Her voice was still annoying though. "It's… It's YOU!" And with her second exclamation she threw out her arm, she pointed at me. Her face revealed even more fear. Guess she remembers me. "You're… you're…" Well, guess miss princess isn't so good with names.

"Lord Bathory" I answered, trying not to laugh at how crazy she looked. She seemed to break from the stupor when I spoke and gave me a quick once over. This was when she finally seemed less scared, but it might be because it was being replaced by confusion. She spoke slower, like she was about to explain something to an idiot.

"Lord… Bathory? No... No that's not what I meant to say." I tried not to smirk. It's just so funny when someone else can't think up a good insult. She wasn't as fast a talker as when she was seven I guess. "What I meant to say was that-" she started, but I couldn't just give her a free jab at my ego.

I quickly interjected, "What, you know the entire dictionary backwards alphabetically now?" flashing my patented smirk of triumph. She let out a sigh of failure and hung her head. She just stood there for a couple more seconds, but she was already boring me a little bit. What ever, it's just not fun to verbally spar when your opponent is slow minded. "Look, never mind." I don't think being partner-less will make Sandor jump for joy. "Just get out of my way!" And with that I brushed past her, a lick of her hair contacting my cheek.

Hmmmm. I smelled her perfume when my senses attacked my mind. The honeysuckle wasn't as gross when it was at regular intensity. Maybe I should tell Cami about it. I was about fifty feet away when I heard her shriek, "Damn you Bathory, I need to talk to you!" Ugh. Why couldn't she just go annoy someone else.

Then I heard that annoying girl, the one who is way too creepy to forget…uhhhh…what's her name. "Like a hot guy like him would ever talk to you."

"Ugh," I muttered, remembering the fox comment. Had to agree with her, though. Aihblinn seemed to be a little bipolar: hyper and tactless, or slow and perpetually confused. "That's right, because they can never get a word in." I agreed, but she wouldn't be able to hear it over the crowd. I followed the zigzag path that walking through teens made you do, then got to the obvious 'too awkward to get a partner' group. There were about ten people, but seven of them were all speaking Russian with one another, and I'd rather choose a Romanian speaker, or at least English.

The one to my right was a real sight to behold. He was at least a foot taller then me, and his tux seemed very…high tech. As in, it was lighting up like a Christmas tree, wires exiting his sleeves and going to a battery attached to his belt. He shifted from one foot to another, and sparks started to busrt from the lights. He wouldn't make a good partner, unless I had a fire extinguisher.

The girl next to him was even more eccentric, it that was possible. She looked like Elvira and Marilyn Manson spawned a teen that freaked them out. Her entire out fit was made out of fishnet, and her skin was dyed white. Blood stained the corners of her mouth, and her mouth bulged like she was chewing something. She smiled at me, and I could see the bulges were fake fangs. I wouldn't pick her, but I'd probably watch a second rate horror starring her.

This last girl was at least normal. Her parents probably couldn't afford a dress, cause she was decked out in jeans and a long sleeved maroon shirt, but that at least made her stand out, in a not so creepy way. Her square glasses were a little too big for her head, though. Their frames were visible through her bangs, which crept over her forehead and her lenses. The rest of her hair was pulled into a mousey brown ponytail, which tapered out somewhere behind her back. I at least wouldn't stare when I talked to her.

"Hi, my name's Zubin" I started, putting out my hand. She glared at me, then at my hand, again at me, and then slowly took my hand.

"Hello, Zube" she said, giving me a smile of metal and rubber bands. The nickname was unusual, but not bad as foreign fox, so I wouldn't correct her. "So, why is a shallow guy like you talking to a girl like me?" she stated bluntly. That surprised me.

"What makes me shallow?" I pondered.

"Let's see… perfect physique, blue eyes, red hair? Let me guess, are you quarterback at your local high school?"

"Ouch, well, for your information, I'm home schooled."

"Well then I'm terribly mistaken!" she put her hand to her mouth in shock, "then I guess I should replace quarterback with snobby rich kid who's never sweated in his life." She put down her hand to show a clever smirk.

"We're getting off on a tangent. Why am I shallow?"

"It's not your fault. All men are. It comes with the sexist pig package."

"Wow. That's a very sexist comment about sexism, wouldn't you say?"

"Maybe," she admitted before adding in, "but most men are. They also never pay attention to important people talking."

"That's a little unfair. Is there some way to prove that wrong?"

"Did you listen to anything that King Irochas has been saying for the last five minutes?"

"Uhhhhhhh, maybe?"

"Like I said, all men are the same."

"That may be true, but women aren't exempt." I was totally losing this argument, which really surprised me. I hadn't lost an argument since I watched Thank You For Smoking. "Like why most girls would make out with a guy. How many women choose a date at a bar by their personality, and not by if he buys her a drink?"

With that she gave me a quick once over, grabbed my collar and ripped my shirt open. My eyes then preceded to pop out of my head. It took a few moments for me to be able to work my tongue to produce some words. "Ummm… this isn't really helping your just men are shallow argument." I sputtered.

"The Turning is starting now, and I needed a place to bite." She replied nonchalantly.

"Don't most regular people use their wrists?" I said slowly, still a little shocked.

"You can't really be a clan leader, Bathory, and be regular, can you?" she gave me a wink and bared her teeth to sink into my shoulder.

"Wait!" I whispered before her canines broke my flesh, "Can you at least tell me your name before you suck my blood?"

"Oops. Lily, daughter of clan member Jones." And with that she bit in, and I could feel a gentle sucking coming from my collar, and a small rivulet of blood tumble unto my white cotton store bought shirt, the red creating a small but growing circular stain of red damp, right where my heart was. The smell hit me like a mallet. At once I just slowly pulled the neck of her shirt down her left shoulder. I sniffed at her delicate skin and could almost see her blood beating, the skin moving up and down as the elixir of vampirism moved through the biological river. I opened my lips, and placed them gently on her only protection from my teeth. I pressed. Pressed harder. Harder. They pierced through.

I wasn't what I expected. It wasn't the gush of a horror movie, but it wasn't just two drops. It was more like sucking on melting ice. I started to relax. It wasn't that hard to turn into a vampire, I guess. I swallowed. The pain was nothing. More than a tingle than anything else. It spread down my throat, into my trunk, then everywhere. I felt like an alka seltzer in a bottle of soda. Then it got more intense, like an itch. Then an all over pinch. Then a burn. And that was just in ten seconds. My eyes stopped functioning by itch. My sense of smell when pinch came. I lost my mind at not long after burn.

Ouch. Ouch. Ooooooouch! Why didn't the gods make the Turning a painless process. I mean, with all the power of the heavens they might have made vamp blood with Novocain or something. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to be blinded. Sandor already warned I'd be out cold for the night, and that the sun will be much brighter than ever with my vamp eyes. After a couple seconds I decide enough is enough, I'm going to have to open my eyes sometime. So I do.

Weird, all I see is blackness. Oh, well. I must've gone blind. Wait, nope, there are some stars, and some trees. Wait again, it's still night? What happened to being knocked out all night? I tried to stand up, and almost fell flat on my face. Hmmmm, I already was standing up. Something had a death grip on my legs though. I looked down to see every other kid but me on the ground, blood on their mouths and wrists, some of it even still wet. In fact it was Lily clutching my legs like a teddy bear. I maneuvered myself out of her grasp and looked around some more. All the parents were grouped around whispering, but I could still hear them fine.

"That was amazing, as always."

"I really need to keep my daughter away from Aihblinn."

"We're so happy your daughter came, Queen Irochas."

"So am I, so am I."

"So who will take first watch?"

I crept slowly over the bodies of my unconscious peers towards the group of adults. As I got closer they all, one at a time, looked towards me. And, one at a time, their eyes bugged out and their jaw muscles lost all control. The only one who didn't do this was King Irochas himself, in the middle of the crowd. He just looked me in the eyes.

"Zubin, have you experienced your Turning and awoken a vampire?" his eyes seemed to be trying to say volumes, awaiting the answer with an intensity I've never seen before. I couldn't answer. I knew what this answer entails, an eternity of the leader of a clan. My chance to fully redeem my family, and follow my mom's footsteps. Man, this was worse than when my voice first cracked. I could see Sandor in the background, nodding his head like a maniac. I nodded my head, and then spoke.

"Yes I have." My words were way too strong compared to the girlish shriek I wanted to give out.

"Do you accept the title of leader of the clan Bathory, and all it entails?"

"I do."

Irochas' feelings changed, whether relieved or worried I can't say. Without a word, the clan leaders slowly walked past the adults, and through a path that looked unused in decades, even centuries. I shuffled after them, all the vampires slowly bowed their heads to me as I passed them. When I entered the path, all sound was magically silenced. I hurried down the path to catch up with the others. I stopped dead at what I saw.

It was a simple thing, resembling a birdbath. Only most birds don't bathe in blood. The blood was the red of freshly spilled, swirling slowly in the basin. I looked at the other eleven leaders. They all watched me as I took my place around the basin. Irochas was holding a cup, and a knife. The cup was simple, roughly metallurged, but simple in it's beauty. The king dipped the cup in the basin and the cup took up the blood. I noticed the level of blood remained the same after he took a cup of it out. He passed me the cup.

"As we are him," I did what instinct told me, and slowly drank the cup. Irochas took the cup and held it under his right arm. He handed me the knife, and I let it slide. After the cup was filled; I gave the cup to him. Each took turns from drinking my blood. After it was passed around once, the remainder was poured into the basin. ", he is us."

"Let us honor Leader of the Bathorys, Zubin Bathory."

Fullmoon:

SURPRISE!!!! YEAH. WOOT. No, it didn't take 7 months, just three. Lol. Didn't put it up because having stuff published online makes it less likely to get published in real life later, but I'm so not heartless… So I will put up chapter's 4, 5, and 6, so me and Dee both have the same amount up. Then we'll tell you when we finish. So huzzah, and pray we get it published someday .