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Son of a King

When women begin showing up dead all across Toronto with distinctive puncture wounds on their necks, Vicki Nelson, PI, is on the job – along with her 450-year-old vampire partner. But if he’s not behind the attacks – who is? A strange, young couple new to the city could hold the key to discovering the truth. Handling two kinds of vampires was hard enough. Just how many different sorts were there? Second story in the “Different Sorts” series FINAL CHAPTER -- NOW POSTED!

ATTENTION READERS: DO NOT STEAL MY STORIES. Someone has stolen some of my stories from this website and posted them as their own on fanfiction.net. It is plaigarism, it is stealing and it is illegal. Read, enjoy -- but don't steal. Second story in the “Different Sorts” series -- takes place after "Different Sorts." Crossover with Buffy and the new “Blood Ties” series on Lifetime. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

2. Chapter 2

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1225   Review this Chapter

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“Please, make yourselves at home,” Edward said, motioning towards the living room. “I promise, I won’t bite.”

Warily, Vicki, Mike and Henry sat down on the sofa and chairs. Their eyes did not leave the strange teenage boy – until he was joined by an equally pale, equally beautiful young woman. She looked about the same age.

“Ah, Bella,” he said, holding out his arms to her as she came into the room. They embraced and kissed. “We have guests,” he said, motioning towards the aforementioned visitors. “This is, I believe, Detective Mike Celucci, private investigator Vicki Nelson, and – is it Henry Fitzroy? Bastard son of the king?”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Henry said, jumping to his feet. He liked to be in control – and he was clearly out of his element here. He did not like the situation.

“This,” Edward said, ignoring Henry’s outburst, “is my wife, Bella.”

“Your wife?” Vicki said. “You two look a little young to be married – even for newlyweds.”

“I did say I was a vampire, didn’t I?” Edward said. “I assure you, so is my wife. And we are both older than we look.”

“So you’re vampires?” Mike said. Edward nodded. “But you said my stake wouldn’t do any good?” Mike pulled the wooden shard from his holster and held it lightly in his hands. He glanced over at the dining table, where a modest collection of stakes, crosses and holy water had been gathered in a pile. “What’s all that for then?”

Edward smiled. “It’s for hunting vampires.”

“Vampires that hunt vampires?” Vicki said, incredulous. She scoffed.

“It’s not so unheard of,” Edward replied. “Of course, the good ones, we leave alone – the ones with souls. The ones who avoid human blood. Who aren’t killers.”

“I may drink from humans,” Henry said, “but I am no killer.”

“But your bite,” Bella said. “Isn’t it poisonous?”

“Only if passion is a poison,” Henry replied venomously.

“Bella,” Edward said, tugging her arm. “He is different from us.”

“Oh,” she said. “Like Spike then? Like the others?”

Edward drew his lips into a thin line. “Not exactly … you are not possessed by a demon, are you? Have you lost your soul and had it replaced by a monster?”

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When you feed,” Edward said, “does your face change? Does it show your true form? Or are you simply a vampire with a conscious? With moral fiber?” Henry did not respond, but Edward could tell from his thoughts. “Moral fiber it is, then.”

“I don’t understand,” Vicki said.

“We are vampires,” Edward said, looking at her fiercely – but kindly. “But we are not like Henry. We are a different sort of vampire. There are at least three different kinds that we know of now – ours, Henry’s – and the demon-vamps.”

“And you hunt other vampires?” Vicki asked, warily.

Edward smiled, trying to put her at ease. He could tell she was a good person. “Yes, but only the evil ones.”

“Then you’re not evil?”

Edward laughed. “No, we are not evil. Dangerous, yes. But not evil – we do not drink from humans. We hunt only animals – and only when we need to feed. Not out of gluttony.”

“Then you had nothing to do with this?” Mike pulled the glossy crime scene photos from his file and tossed them onto the coffee table without ceremony.

Bella gasped – “Oh!” – when she saw the image. Edward’s smile fell and his lips drew into a thin grimace.

“That was not us,” he said. “We are tracking the ones responsible.”

“Tracking?” Vicki asked.

“It’s what we do nowadays,” Edward replied. “It’s our purpose. To hunt and kill vampires – to protect the innocent.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t so innocent.”

“Being a prostitute doesn’t mean she deserved to die,” Henry spat.

Edward shrugged. “He has a point, detective. No one deserves to die like that.”

“Not even your wife?” Henry asked.

Edward shuddered. “No, not even her.” He was silent for a long moment – letting the chilling memories of the attack that had claimed Bella’s life wash over him. She’d been left on the brink of death and it had been up to him – to let her die, or to kill her and make her an immortal. She’d begged – Buffy had insisted … he’d bitten. And though he did not regret having Bella at his side for all eternity, he regretted the way in which she lost her human life. He regretted the circumstances. Even now, after three years, it was his biggest regret.

“If you hunt vampires with stakes and crosses,” Mike said, “why did you say—“

Edward cut him off. The detective still wanted to know why Edward told him his own stake would be useless. “Because stakes can’t kill us. Not vampires like Bella and myself. I can see that they would do a handy job on Henry here, or any of his ilk – and they work quite nicely on the demon vampires we’re accustomed to hunting.”

“So what does kill you?” Henry asked. He was angry and curious about these two strangers, who seemed to know too much about him. “Sunlight? Garlic? Crosses?”

Edward chuckled under his breath. “Garlic is best reserved for cooking – though we don’t eat, obviously. Crosses are merely a symbol of a religious deity – but they do burn the demon vampires – as does the sun. But for us … well, we avoid the sun – but only because it makes our appearance rather … conspicuous.”

“So you’re – what? Immortal and indestructible?”

“Not entirely,” Edward replied. “As far as we can tell, the only way to kill a vampire like myself or Bella is to tear us into bits and burn what remains.”

“Harsh,” Vicki said.

“It would work, by the way,” Edward said, responding to a thought that had been flickering through Vicki’s mind the entire evening.

“What?” she said, startled.

“Your idea – about recovering your sight. It would work – it would come with certain … side effects … but it would work.”

“Oh,” Vicki said. She blushed, embarrassed. She had never shared these thoughts with anyone – thoughts about saving her eyesight by becoming a vampire. Wondering if immortality would restore her vision.

“I’m sorry,” Edward said. “I should have explained earlier – I can hear your thoughts. It’s my gift.”

“How did you come to hunt other vampires?” Henry said. He was used to being the only vampire around and secretly he was jealous of the attention these other vampires were getting.

“The Slayer taught us,” Edward replied.

”The Slayer?” Henry laughed. “That is a myth. It’s a bedtime story told to other vampires to get them to behave, nothing more.”

“Are you so sure?” Edward said. “Because aren’t vampires only a myth? Isn’t it only a myth that Henry Fitzroy died in his youth?”

“I’ve been around a long time,” Henry said. “If there were such a thing as a Slayer, don’t you think I’d know about it?”

“You’d think.” All heads turned towards the door, where a young blonde woman stood, arms crossed. “But then again, you’d be surprised how many vampires have never heard of me.”

“Buffy …”

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