Three Blood Prince

By G. David Walker

J.D. Williams' parents have kept a secret from him and his big sister, Megan, for their entire lives. Now, that secret might just get J.D. killed.
The arrival of a strange girl at his school sets J.D. on a journey which will completely change the course of his life as well as that of his sister. Together, they discover that none of the closest people in their lives, from their parents to J.D.'s best friend, are who they thought they were. Which means neither are J.D. and Megan.
J.D. becomes the target of a dark Fae who believes his blood contains the key to ultimate power. She will stop at nothing to achieve her goals, sending bloodthirsty creatures of nightmares and legends in pursuit of him and his family, from their home in the Ozarks to the shores of northern Scotland.
With teeth and claws potentially lurking in every shadow, the Williams need any allies they can find to keep J.D. safe from the malevolent creatures hunting him and stop their dark mistress forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G. David Walker
• Release date: Feb 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224127078

G. David Walker

From an undisclosed source who prefers to remain anonymous: G. David Walker was unexpectedly born in the summer of 1963, the obvious result of alien visitation, as his mother had been told she was unable to have any more children a decade prior to his arrival. This conclusion was only reinforced by David's obsession with Star Trek and The Monkees, nights spent staring at the stars overhead, and uncountable hours reading science fiction and fantasy while other children were outside playing tag and running into trees. (Actually, it was David who ran into the tree, but that's another story.) Fortunately, David outgrew these tendencies… Well, no. No, he didn't He is still obsessed with Star Trek (and Star Gate, Star Wars, Jefferson Starship, star fruit, Dancing with the Stars, wait, what? Scratch that last one.), still enjoys staring into the night sky, and still reads science fiction and fantasy books and stories at every opportunity. Happily, we can report that there have been no reported incidents of him running into any trees lately (at least none that we're aware of). When he's not trying to avoid trees, David writes fantasy and science fiction novels and stories, some of which may or may not be based upon odd memories...err...thoughts that pop up at irregular intervals throughout his day. David is a member of the Missouri Writers Guild, and currently lives in southwest Missouri with his wife and children, and whatever stray animals his children happen to bring home.

Book preview

THREE BLOOD PRINCE

G. David Walker

Copyright © 2022 by G. David Walker

All rights reserved

Cover Art by MiblArt

miblart.com

Dedicated to my family, who graciously allowed me to use them

in this story. This is my gift to them and any who come after.

Every day, every moment, is another step on the journey.

Find out more about G. David Walker and his upcoming projects at

http://www.gdavidwalker.com

Contents

New Student

Girls Are Scary

Family Secrets

Red is Your Color

Road Trip

It’s in the Blood

You Can Do Magic

Horse Party

Playing Defense

Rock and Troll

Meeting the Enemy

Spooky Sweet

Hunger Pains

Communication is Key

Crash and Burn

Bad Doggy

Family Feuds

Somewhere Under the Rainbow

I’m Telling Mom

Going Green

Stormy Weather

Live Bait

Water You Waiting For?

Going Home

The Enemy of My Enemy

It All Comes Out in the Wash

Pass Intercepted

Shell Game

Never Assume

New Student

J.D. pulled his hood tighter around his face, trying to protect his cheeks from the rain stinging his skin like icy needles. An insistent wind poked frozen fingers into every tiny opening in his coat it could find, chilling exposed flesh into goose bumps before he could close the betraying gap with an irritated jerk of the fabric.

I hope you run out of gas! he yelled at the taillights of the retreating car as it splashed away with his older sister, Megan, behind the wheel. Then he looked around to make sure no one had overheard him. Not like there was anyone nearby. His sister had dropped him off at the top of the parking lot, claiming she didn’t have time to wait in the line of cars to get him closer to the front doors of the high school.

It’s raining! he’d said, when she stopped fifty yards from the entrance.

Sucks for you, she shot back.

I’m not walking. You need to get in line.

J.D., I can’t! I’ll be late for work.

Sucks for you, he replied in a mocking voice.

If I’m late, I’m telling Mom it’s your fault.

J.D. had clenched his teeth and muttered under his breath as he shoved the car door open. Since their mom had helped Megan get her current job, the prospect of her learning his sister had been late getting to work because of him effectively ended the argument.

So, now here he was, pushing wet, blonde hair out of his eyes and trying to avoid the deepest puddles while jogging toward the heavy red metal doors opening and closing for his mostly dry classmates, all the while hoping his sister’s car broke down. It wasn’t like he wanted Megan to actually get hurt or anything. It just seemed only fair that if he had to be this cold and wet, she should too. But, as usual, she always got her way. What else was new?

His overloaded backpack bounced against his spine, threatening to send him flopping face first into the asphalt. Just a few more months, he grumbled in his thoughts. Then I can drive myself to school. Mondays sucked anyway, but the weather forecast hadn’t mentioned anything like this on the horizon. Gotta love Missouri weather.

He swerved to the side as a passing car tossed up a curtain of water on its way out of the parking lot. The icy wetness suddenly numbing his shins and ankles informed him he hadn’t been quite agile enough to escape unscathed. Annoyed, he looked down to see that his jeans were now soaking wet from the knees down. Thank you! he yelled as the car faded into the downpour. He shook each leg, for all the good it did, and then resumed his jog toward the doors. The rhythmic squishing sounds from his waterlogged Nikes kept time with each dire curse he mentally wished upon his sister and the driver of the water ride car as he hurried through the parking lot.

A gust of wind blew rain into his face. As he blinked it away, he saw someone standing outside the school, just underneath the Aurora High School, Home of the Houn’ Dawgs letters on the side of the building. It was a girl. She was staring at him with an oddly intense expression on her face. Although she wasn’t standing under the awnings, she didn’t seem to be bothered by the wind and rain. The gusts trying to push him over barely seemed to move the long dark hair hanging past her shoulders. Way too much eyeliner, babe, he thought. Even from here he could see the dark lines outlining her eyes. The black lipstick and dark clothes—no coat was evident—completed the nights of the dead ensemble. Not exactly a common look in the small Midwestern town. There was something else strange about her face, but the rain blowing in his eyes made it hard to see from where he was.

Even though their fashion senses were clearly miles apart, he was strangely intrigued. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that seemed to pull at him. It was as if—

Another sharp gust of wind forced him to close his eyes again. When he opened them, the girl was gone.

He looked around, but she was nowhere in sight. Before he could wonder at how quickly she had disappeared or why the sight of her seemed to tug at him, the second bell sounded. He had to hurry; he already had two tardies. One more tardy before semester break and he’d be spending some quality time with Mr. Johnson after school counting spit wads on the ceiling, and maybe adding a few more when Mr. Johnson dozed off, as he always did.

He pushed through the doors and squelched his way through the crowded halls to his locker, trying to ignore the snickers he heard as he passed his less sodden classmates. The cold from his legs made him shiver and caused him to fumble at the combination lock on his locker. He couldn’t keep himself from kicking it after his third attempt failed. As the rattling of the locker died down, he heard a familiar voice from behind.

Yo, rat boy. Anybody tell you it’s raining outside?

Ha, ha, he said, as he turned to face the comedian. Shut up or I’ll punch out your kneecaps.

He looked up to meet the smiling eyes of Big Ben Rosewood, his best friend since sixth grade. Ben was holding a towel and a pair of dry shoes.

I saw you from the window walking in. I got these out of your gym locker. Thought you might need them. Mrs. Mobley would probably blow a gasket if you dripped all over her floor.

J.D. grinned as he took the towel. Thanks. He pried off his shoes, stripped off his socks, and began vigorously wiping at his jeans. As he worked on removing as much precipitation from his clothing as possible, Ben reached around him to open his locker for him.

Ben Rosewood was one of the nicest guys a person could ever hope to meet. Unless, that was, if said person was meeting him across the line of scrimmage on a football field. Then it was a different story. Off the field, Ben was the first one to offer a helping hand, no matter what the situation. He was one of those genuine good guys that would, quite literally, give you the extra-extra-extra-large shirt off his back. But put pads and a helmet on him, and he became a six-foot, eight inch, three hundred and fifteen pounds of muscle, quarterback-eating rage machine. J.D. had lost count of how many times Big Ben had introduced a quarterback to the turf of Kelly Field. Double team him, triple team, it didn’t matter. If Ben smelled a football, things were not going to end well for whoever had it. It was common knowledge that opposing teams ran a lot of quick slants and sweeps to the opposite side of the field from Ben whenever they played the Dawgs. Some football players made opposing coaches cringe. Big Ben made them cry. And if the wind was blowing just right on game night, you could almost hear the wailing and gnashing of teeth coming from the opposing team’s bench.

I didn’t see any socks in your locker, so you’ll just have to wring those out the best you can. Unless you want mine.

J.D. looked down at Ben’s size sixteen shoes next to his own size tens. Nah, I’m good. I’ll just leave these off and hope no one notices. At least my gym shoes are high tops. He shoved his bare foot into the first shoe.

Suit yourself, but you better hurry. You don’t want to be late again.

As he pushed his other foot into the second shoe, J.D. looked up to see that the hallway was almost empty. A few stragglers scrambled for doorways like people clearing the streets before a gunfight in one of those old westerns his great-granddad, Smokey, used to watch. Yeah, no kidding. You better get moving too. I’ll see you in history.

He turned his attention to his shoes, tying the first one as the vibrations from Big Ben jogging down the hallway faded away under his feet. Just as he cinched down the laces, the third bell began to sound. The second shoe would have to wait; he’d have to sprint for it. Fortunately, he could see the door to Mrs. Mobley’s classroom from his locker. He might just be able to make it before the bell stopped.

No such luck.

He slid through the door just as the last echo of the third bell faded away. Mrs. Mobley looked up from the paper in her hand at his entrance, and his heart sank. He knew that over-the-glasses look all too well: The Death Stare. She started to open up the laptop on her desk—a sure sign that a tardy was on the way—when she did a double take and inspected him again. He saw her gaze travel down to his soaked jeans, and he glanced down at his shoes, one tied, the other with the tongue hanging out exposing a bare ankle. He looked back at her and gave a weak shrug. With a barely perceptible shake of her head, she closed the laptop again and turned her attention back to the paper. He took a step toward his desk and then froze at the sound of her voice.

Don’t drip on my floor, Mr. Williams.

A chorus of snickers and giggles accompanied him to his desk, where he slid into his seat with what he hoped was a silent sigh of relief.

Kenny leaned up from behind him. You must have done something right in a past life, he whispered. I can’t believe she let you off.

He considered replying but didn’t want to push his luck, so he settled for a quick nod as the teacher stood up from her desk to begin the lesson.

After listening to Mrs. Mobley extol the virtues of proper punctuation and condemn to eternal purgatory any stylistically challenged souls who would dare overuse passive sentences, they began working on the in-class assignment. Thirty-one and a half excruciating minutes later, the bell rang signaling freedom for the scholastic hostages. The almost-catatonic students came back to life and surged toward the door and their four minutes of freedom. J.D. reached his locker and dropped his English book on top of the stack. As he was pulling his American History book out from the bottom, a shadow fell over him.

Hey, dude, let’s go. Mr. Parker awaits.

J.D. looked up to see Ben grinning down at him. Y’know, J.D. said with a yawn, they should make it against the law to have Comp first hour.

I know what you mean, Ben chuckled. I’m glad I have French.

Yeah, just because you like Ms. Finnion.

Well—, Ben stopped suddenly, a frown crossing his face. Then he started sniffing at the air like he smelled something disturbing. As he turned his head left and right, he reached up and adjusted the silver chain around his neck that he’d worn ever since J.D. had known him.

J.D. was about to ask what he was doing when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck spring to attention. He leaned over to glance up the hallway around Ben’s massive arm, and, through the throng of bodies, saw her. It was the same girl who had been standing outside earlier. As if feeling his gaze, she slowly turned toward him. As their eyes met, he felt an almost electric shock course through his body. Intricate black designs ran up both sides of her neck before branching across her cheeks and her dark hair seemed to float on an unfelt breeze, creating a shadowy halo around her face. Returning his stare, her lips twisted in an amused smirk. But her eyes… It almost felt like her gaze was pulling him toward her. Then he felt Ben’s giant hand on his shoulder, moving him down the hallway.

Hey! He just managed to slap his locker door shut with his fingertips before it was out of reach. What’s the deal?

Come on. We need to get to class, Ben said, not sounding at all like his normal jovial self.

What’s wrong? He turned to try to get another glimpse of the girl but, as before, she had vanished as quickly as she’d appeared. Did you see that girl?

Ben stopped suddenly, drawing complaints from a couple of boys immediately behind them. The grumbling quickly cut off as the boys realized who was blocking their path and decided a quiet detour around the two was the more prudent course of action.

What girl? Ben demanded. What did she look like?

Dark hair, heavy eyeliner, tattoos on her neck and face. She was just standing over there, J.D. said, pointing.

Ben turned to look, sniffing once again at the air.

J.D. took a whiff but didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. What’s with the sniffing?

It’s nothing, Ben said. I think I may be getting a cold. Come on. With one more glance around, Ben put his hand back on J.D.’s shoulder and headed toward class. As Ben propelled him through the hallways, J.D. thought he heard a quiet giggle in his ear, like a feather brushing across wind chimes, but then it was gone, and they were at the door to Mr. Parker’s classroom.

The class was the same old same old, just like any other day, except for Ben’s mood, which was more taciturn than usual, even for this class. The giggle echoed in J.D.’s thoughts as Mr. Parker droned through the day’s lesson.

Girls Are Scary

Megan hung another rake up on the spring gardening display, grinning to herself as she remembered how mad J.D. had looked in her rearview mirror. This wasn’t really her job—she worked in cabinets—but they were shorthanded today thanks to the unexpected weather. Ordinarily, taking on extra duties would irritate her, but nothing could ruin her amusement at J.D.’s expense this morning. She continued reliving the episode as she worked on the display. She’d seen him shouting something at her, but with her window rolled up against the rain and her radio blasting, she couldn’t tell what he was saying. She didn’t really need to know what he had shouted; she could just imagine what it was.

She actually could have waited in line like he’d asked her to. Mom had had to go in earlier than she usually did, so she woke Megan up and made her drive the little brat to school, which meant she’d left the house a half hour earlier than she usually did to get to work. But he didn’t need to know that part. It's not like he’d been in any danger. She’d never leave him someplace where he might actually get hurt. It was just that, as the little brother, their parents always protected him, which was really annoying sometimes. This was just a tiny bit of payback she could get away with without actually having to worry about something bad happening to him…other than getting wet, of course. Her grin widened. The look on his face as she drove off would be a memory she’d cherish for years, maybe the rest of her life. If she’d have been able to take a picture, she would’ve had it framed for posterity.

Then her smile faded as she remembered what had happened next. In the midst of her grinning at J.D.’s angry face growing smaller in the mirror, she thought she’d seen a shadow flash across the twin beams of light from the headlights, as if someone had sprinted across the road in front of her car. She’d slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a short skid toward the ditch. Just as it came to a stop, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a face peering at her through her window. She jerked her head around, but there was nothing to be seen except the rain running down the glass. It wasn’t until she rolled her window down to get a better look that she’d heard the driver behind her leaning on his car horn. With a last glance to make sure there were no bodies lying on the pavement, she wrote it off as her imagination playing tricks on her and drove on to work.

She shook her head and picked up the next rake for the display. It would just be something else to talk about with Jennie tonight. She was looking forward to their girls’ night. It had been too long since they’d been able to hang out. Megan wanted to talk about boys—well, one in particular—and Jen was the only person she trusted to keep her mouth shut. Plus, they always had a blast when they were together. She could use a night of fun with her best friend.

She glanced over as the hiss of the electric doors announced a new arrival. Seeing who it was, she quickly went back to her work, trying her best to look extremely busy. Mr. Swanson was a regular, but no matter how often he came in, he always, always, always wanted help with something, and Megan was one of his favorite targets. It wasn’t that he was rude or demanding; it was just annoying. The man could never make up his mind without asking a thousand questions. She spared a quick look. Crap! He was walking straight toward her. There was no way he wouldn’t see her. Maybe if she looked super focused, he’d find someone else to help him. She stared intently at the plan-o-gram in her hand, pretending like she was trying to figure out where all of the products went on this display. She could hear his footsteps and wheezing breath getting closer by the second.

She tried to bore a hole in the paper with her eyes as the footsteps and wheezing kept approaching. Please find someone else. Please find someone else. Her heart sank as the footsteps stopped right beside her. Looking at his feet, she could tell he was examining the sales display. Then, a miracle happened. Mr. Swanson glanced around just as Doug appeared at the end of the aisle. Megan saw a look of desperation flash across Doug’s face as he saw Mr. Swanson, then the standard, politely smiling customer service mask slipped into place. Megan bit back a wave of giggles as Mr. Swanson walked past her, saying, Excuse me, young man. Could you help me?

With a grin and another suppressed laugh, she returned to setting up the gardening display. She didn’t know why he had ignored her, but she certainly wasn’t about to complain. Something else to tell Jen.

After she finished the display, she went back to the cabinet section to wait for customers or for her manager to give her something else to do. While she waited, she straightened up and cleaned her area. She was wiping down the last counter when the department phone rang.

Cabinets, she said into the receiver.

You’ve got a winner coming your way, Michael’s voice told her. She’s sniffing everyone she passes.

What? Did you say sniffing?

Yeah, sniffing. Like she’s trying to figure out everyone’s cologne or something.

Megan looked up to see a girl at the far end of the nearest aisle, walking toward the back of the store and Megan’s station. She was acting like a bloodhound on the trail of a suspect, sniffing at the air and then staring at the floor as if looking for invisible footprints. The only time she appeared to acknowledge anything else was when she passed another person. The girl sniffed at a passing customer, shook her head, and continued approaching.

Oh. Yeah, I see her.

"Have fun,’ Michael said before hanging up.

The girl was getting closer. Megan wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but her hair looked like it was green. There was also a lattice of dark tattoos running across her cheeks and down the sides of her neck. Love the hair, babe, but the tattoos are a bit much. She kept sniffing at the air as if following a scent. Just as the girl reached the end of the aisle, Krystal and Rob came around the corner, halting just in time to avoid running into her.

The girl jerked to a stop, almost snarling at the two. Then she sniffed at them, shook her head, and kept walking toward Megan, sniffing at the air every few steps. They looked after her and then past her at Megan, who felt as confused as they looked. As she got closer,