When All is Null and Void

Chapter Twenty-Five

Titus James was, perhaps, the most insufferable person Caleb had ever met. Caleb might have strangled the Time Prince if Alexander's stupid, peace-loving face didn't stop flash didn't stop flashing into his mind with a Be the Bigger Person lecture on his lips. He hadn't let them Hop across town; instead Alexander forced Caleb and Titus to smush together into Bertha's front seat. Titus had actually wrestled Caleb for the window seat, and since the older boy was stronger and taller than Caleb, Titus had won.

 After the lecture, Alexander had left Caleb with the flip phone, and he'd given both Titus and Caleb instructions to call him when they were finished. The prospect of finding some portal to hell amidst this, a party already out of hand, where red plastic cups were strewn across the grass and tons of people danced in scantily clad costumes, were already slim. This washell.

Titus was dressed as a cowboy, with real revolvers—empty of ammunition, of course—around his waist. His hair was long at the nape of his neck and curled out from underneath the dust brown Stetson. Where Titus was a movie star stud, Caleb was a dumpy mess. He'd been given dark clothes, had his hair mussed up, and sported a pair of dollar vampire fangs that seemed to take their job too seriously, as they dug into Caleb's gums and drew blood. The v-neck was too loose and Alexander's old boots barely fit Caleb's feet. Titus was admittedly striking, and Caleb was an eight-year-old playing make believe. While he might not have wanted to be dressed as a gladiator, like a few of the guys here, Caleb would have rather been something, anything, but this knock-off Damon Salvatore.

"Where do we even start?" Caleb shouted to Titus over the pounding bass.

"We don't," Titus replied. "You follow me, because I'm the leader here. I'll tell you what to do."

Caleb envisioned how satisfying it would feel to wrap his fingers around Titus' throat. With a centering breath, Caleb unclenched his fists and followed. He wouldn't be goaded into Titus' little game—for Alexander's sake alone. He slurped down some of the thick, blood infused saliva and nearly choked.

Like a pair of impotent birds of prey, Caleb and Titus circled the house. Free movement was limited and Caleb bumped into Titus no less than three times before the Time Prince cast an evil glare.

"I need my space," he said.

Caleb refrained from retorting that this last time hadn't been his fault. Some drunk teenager had actually shoved him into Titus.

"Can you just tell me what you're looking for?" This seemed to be fruitless.

"Do you feel your ring, like, pulsing differently?" Titus finally said. "That's going to lead us to the Void leak."

Caleb had to strain to feel what Titus described, but when he became aware of the sensation, he couldn't shut it off. When he turned around, the fluttering shifted forward. "I think it's this way," Caleb said.

Titus, with grudging annoyance, raised his hands. "Lead the way, Oh Chosen One..."

Caleb smirked, satisfied, and walked through the house, which was how he'd found himself in the kitchen having a conversation with a pretty girl whose skin was a light shade of milk chocolate. Per Titus' hastily whispered instructions, Caleb was attempting to distract her as Titus looked around the kitchen. The task wasn't easy when Titus was making suck a loud racket as he rifled through the cabinets. The girl was also captivating and rendered Caleb incapable of proper human socialization even after his stupid, "So, a fellow water drink," comment. He'd gone on to discuss how they were kindred spirits. He was ashamed, but then she was sort of rude. Caleb couldn't decide if it was purposeful or if she was equally as awkward as him.