A large wall of flesh slammed into Vlad’s side, knocking him off kilter. Tom Gaiber snorted, “Watch where you’re going, goth boy.”
Bill Jensen snorted too. Vlad was beginning to think he was surrounded by horses. Two large, annoying horses with bad body odor and low IQs. “You’re a vampire, right? Show us your fangs, vampire boy.”
Vlad’s defenses raised, but he said nothing. Sometimes silence was your best defense. Tom guffawed. “Yeah, you’re as much of a vampire as I am a werewolf. And I’m not one.”
Resisting rolling his eyes was giving Vlad a migraine, so he closed them for a moment instead. “Are you done yet? I have to get to class.”
Tom snorted. “Class? You’ve got none of that, loser.”
Thankfully, Mr. Hunjo appeared and shooed them both off with a warning glance before they decided to beat some class into Vlad.
Vlad shot an expectant look at Joss, who smiled as he shuf fled the stack of books in his hands. “Where’s Eddie?”
Joss shrugged. “He was expelled for writing a bogus article about a fellow student—something Principal Snelgrove views as a form of bullying.”
And just like that, Vlad’s tension melted away. It was over. In a good way.
As Vlad and Joss walked into Otis’s classroom, Otis shot him a look that said he doubted his nephew’s sanity. “Is this your way of handling it? A broken arm and a mended friendship? I knew you went after him, but I assumed it was to stop his heart from beating.”
Vlad cut Otis off with a crunch. It was none of his business anyway. Besides, he wanted blood, he got it. He never said anything about death.
Otis looked at Joss and managed a somewhat pleasant tone. “Joss, it’s good to see you back. I was worried something happened to you.”
Joss wasn’t smiling. “Something did, but I survived.”
“Well, it’s good to have you back. I trust you and your friend are ready for a pop quiz.”
Vlad shot Otis a look before letting his eyes wander over to Meredith’s desk. Sadly, he found it empty.
As if reading his thoughts, Joss leaned forward and said, “She’s out with mono. Won’t be back until after spring break.”
Vlad nodded his thanks and then turned his attention back to the pop quiz that had just been put on his desk. The air between him and Joss was strange, awkward. Because even though they’d agreed not to kill each other during daylight hours, there was always that other thing.
There was always the fact that both of them loved Meredith Brookstone.
30
THE PRAVUS
VIKAS RAN AT VLAD with the stake held high, but he didn’t just run, he shifted in that superquick way that only vampires could move. For the evening, they’d moved their training session to an old abandoned barn at the edge of town. Vikas had said they’d require more space than the basement could supply. He never mentioned that he wouldn’t be holding back at all and, if Vlad didn’t defend, could seriously endanger his life.
In a flash, Vlad dodged his blow and spun around, ready for another attack.
“Good, Mahlyenki Dyavol. Excellent.” But no sooner had the compliment left his lips than Vikas had leaped through the air and landed on top of Vlad, who hit the ground hard, knocking the wind momentarily from his lungs. Vikas raised the stake once more, a hopeful glimmer in his eye. He would not hold back, just as a slayer wouldn’t hold back. He would not give up, just as a slayer wouldn’t give up. He would never stop.
Vlad managed to slide his knee up between them and kicked Vikas backward. His chest felt light, so much lighter than it ever had. Vlad felt a strange energy pulse through him. He gave into its will, leaped to his feet, and snatched the stake from Vikas’s hand almost without effort. Vikas came after him, but Vlad was light ... so light and full of energy. He ran as hard and fast as he could to the other end of the barn and, to his amazement, he kept going, running halfway up the barn wall, its old boards creaking under his feet. He flipped over then, planting his feet against a large beam, bouncing his way back and forth between the wall and the beam until he was on the ground again and advancing on Vikas. With a grin, he hit Vikas full force. Vikas fell to the ground and Vlad brought the stake down, stopping before he broke the skin. Weirdly both energized and exhausted, Vlad wiped the sweat from his brow and helped Vikas to his feet. “How was that, old man?”
Vikas looked visibly shaken. He exchanged shocked glances with Otis, who stood at the barn door and both shook their heads.
Vlad blinked, wondering if he’d done something wrong. “What? What is it?”
Otis stepped closer, slowly, carefully. After a moment, Vikas squeezed Vlad’s shoulder. “We have never seen a vampire move in the way that you just moved.”
Vlad looked back and forth between them, confused. “But how can that be?”
Otis shook his head. “We don’t know.”
Vlad turned the corner, exhausted from training and wanting nothing more than to go home and fall into his bed. He was so tired that it barely registered that Dorian was waiting for him just around the bend. Gasping, he grabbed his chest, feeling his heart hammer against his ribs in surprise. “Jeez, Dorian! You almost scared me to death!”
“This fear is new to you? I was under the impression you’re always frightened of me. Less so lately, but frightened, still.” He smiled his charming smile and, once Vlad’s heart rate had settled, continued. “I’ve been trying to come up with an answer to our plight, my young friend. I wanted to discuss it with you.”
“We have a plight?” Vlad searched his exhausted mind for a bit, then nodded. “Oh, you mean that whole you wanting to drink my blood and me being totally against it thing.”
“That would be the one, yes.” Dorian closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled, as if tasting the scent of blood in the air of Vlad’s hometown. When he opened them again, he said, “Would you like to hear the solution I’ve come up with?”
Vlad chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully before answering with a nod.
“What if I allow you to control my actions? You can make me bite you as gently as possible, drink as little as you deem fit, and stop me when you’d prefer.”
“No offense, Dorian, but that idea sucks.”
Dorian sighed. “You’re right. And to be frank, the only reason that I haven’t forced you to my whims is that I have a sort of respect for you, Vlad ... that and I am duty-bound. But even my appetite is not why I have come here tonight. You have questions for me. So ... what would you ask of me?”
Vlad didn’t even want to know how Dorian knew that he’d been mulling over some prophecy-based questions just hours before. But he was curious what Dorian meant by being duty-bound. “What do you do all day, Dorian? Just wait around for some sense that I might have questions for you?”
“Sometimes. I also travel the world. I’m rather fond of airplanes.”
“Don’t you spend time with family? Friends?”
“I visit my father, when he hasn’t much company, but as for friends ... well, I don’t have any to speak of. Apart from a few bribery attempts from various vampires over the years—D’Ablo being one of them—I haven’t spent extended time with our kind. They ... dislike me.” He shrugged then, and changed the subject. “About your questions ...”
Vlad chewed his bottom lip for a moment. It had never occurred to him how lonely Dorian might be. Or maybe he wasn’t lonely. Maybe he was just bored a lot. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Is the Pravus evil?”
Dorian cocked an eyebrow. “What a strange query, my young friend.”
Vlad shrugged. Strange or not, he needed to know if he was going to somehow morph into this evil being, mad with power. “Well, people say that the Pravus will rule over all vampirekind and enslave the human race, so ...”
“What people say this?”
“I don’t know. Vampire people. Vikas, for one.” Vlad was feeling oddly frustrated and he wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe it was because he hadn’t expected criticism or query i
n response to his simple question. “Is he wrong?”
Dorian raised a sharp eyebrow. “That’s difficult to say. Can you be more direct in your questioning?”
Jeez. It was like talking to a Magic 8 Ball. With a sigh, Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “Will the Pravus rule over vampirekind and enslave the human race?”
“He will do one out of necessity The other will be done in charity.”
“Which one will he ... I do out of necessity?”
“The Pravus will rule over vampirekind.”
Vlad’s heart thumped twice, hard. “And if I don’t want to?”
Dorian shook his head. “You’re asking my advice now, advice that I cannot give.”
After mulling this over for a bit, Vlad wondered aloud, “How can I enslave the human race out of charity?”
Dorian narrowed his eyes, his attention waning. “Would you be opposed to slitting open a vein and filling a cup? It would be cold, but I think it might satiate my need.”
“No, Dorian.” He wouldn’t let Dorian feed ... and he would continue to keep their interactions to himself. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but Vlad wanted to handle this on his own. Besides, Otis and Vikas had enough on their plates.
“You can’t blame a vampire for trying.” His sly smile slipped into a more serious purse as he shook his head. “I must leave. The urge to feed from you is becoming too intense. It’s almost unbearable now.”
Vlad nodded at this, still questioning Dorian’s motives. “Does this mean you’re not going to attack me anymore?”
Dorian flashed him a smile as he turned to leave. “For now, my young friend. Sleep well.”
31
MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE
VLAD FINISHED JOTTING DOWN THE DETAILS of his day and closed his journal with a snap. It was getting full. Soon there would be no more room to write at all.
But there was no time for musing about how full his journal had gotten. Vlad had an appointment. A very important appointment. One he’d kept almost every night and certainly every weekend night for the past four months. In fact, the past few months had been oddly full of btiss—no sign of D’Ablo, no interference by Dorian, not even so much as a sniffle from Eddie. Vlad’s life felt, for lack of a better word, normal.
He dropped his journal on the chair and made his way to the arched windows, then stepped from the belfry and floated gently down to the ground. He had made it a block from school when a wooden stake whizzed by his head and stuck fast in a tree trunk.
The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk before he turned around. That one was close. But he knew Joss wouldn’t get it much closer. Ever since the hospital, their fights were the equivalent of sparring and showing off.
Vlad turned, searching the darkness for Joss. When he found him—merely a shadow within the shadows—he darted forward with vampire speed, clotheslining the slayer. Joss made an oof sound and fell to the ground.
It was like a play, a theatrical representation of what vampires and slayers were meant to do. The players moved back and forth across the stage, knowing that when the sun rose, when the curtain came down, life would resume and the play would be all but forgotten.
As a courtesy, neither of the players mentioned Meredith.
A bead of sweat dripped into Vlad’s left eye, but he brushed it away with the back of his hand and high kicked Joss in the center of his chest. Joss did a windmill kick, knocking Vlad’s feet out from under him. But neither stayed on the ground for very long.
Vlad took to the trees, hopping almost silently from treetop to treetop in a circle around Joss, who stood at the ready scanning the darkness for any clue of where he’d gone. In a breath, Vlad dropped from a branch, ripped the stake from the tree’s trunk and slashed forward, stopping with the sharp, silver point pressing into Joss’s back.
The sun peeked over the horizon. Joss turned with a grin, taking his stake and slipping it into the leather holster on his belt. Normalcy returned to the stage. “Morning, Vlad.”
Vlad could barely contain a chuckle. “Morning, Joss. How was your night?”
“Oh, not bad. Had to fend off this vicious bloodsucker, but that’s about it.” He shrugged casually, a twinkle in his eye. It was so good to see the old Joss again, the one from before Joss had learned Vlad’s secret. But really, their friendship was even better now. No more hiding things, no more lies. Joss knew Vlad was a vampire, and though he wasn’t okay with it, he was okay with Vlad.
Vlad smirked. “Bloodsucker, eh?”
Joss straightened his shoulders in an effort to make himself look bigger, tougher. The scary thing is, it worked. Nobody would’ve pegged Joss as a muscular kinda guy, but in his position, he had to be. “More like a mosquito, really. Bothersome, but no real threat to me.”
He rolled his eyes in response. “You had it easy. Some guy kept trying to poke me with a toothpick.”
They locked eyes and laughed out loud. Then Joss slugged him gently in the shoulder and said, “You comin’ over for breakfast?”
“Actually, I have to pack.”
They both knew what he was packing for. They both knew Otis’s trial was tonight, but neither wanted to talk about it. Joss had pretty much decided that he loathed every fiber of Otis’s being, and Vlad just wanted to forget the trial was coming up at all.
A look of sympathy came over Joss’s face. “Oh. Well ... see ya.”
Vlad walked home alone, and quietly stole upstairs to his bedroom. A heavy feeling filled his chest. He was escorting Otis to his death today, and no one—not Nelly not Henry, not anyone but the vampires involved—knew that it was coming.
Through his open bedroom door, he heard Nelly and Otis talking at the bottom of the stairs. Nelly’s voice sounded clueless and concerned. “Promise you’ll take care of him and hurry back soon.”
Otis didn’t speak for several seconds, then finally lied as well as he was able. “We’ll be back before you can miss us.”
As he listened to Otis ascend the stairs, a horrifying thought occupied his mind.
He was about to lose a father for the second time.
32
THE TRYING OF OTIS OTIS
I MUST ADMIT, I DO FEEL A BIT BETTER about your letting Joss survive after yesterday’s test.” Otis’s tone matched the bemused smirk he wore. He was in an awfully good mood, considering they were in the midst of packing for a trip that likely would end in his demise.
“What’s with all these quizzes, tests, and extra assignments lately, anyway? Am I being punished for letting Joss live?” Vlad tossed some socks into his duffel bag and shot Otis a mock-angry look. “Oh, I see. That’s your plan, isn’t it? Do me in with a bunch of quizzes. Bore me to death.”
“If I wanted to do you in, Vladimir, I can think of a few other ways.”
“Don’t I have enough people after me, Otis? Joss, Principal Snelgrove...”
“Don’t forget D’Ablo.”
“There’s somebody I could live without.” Vlad furrowed his brow. “Speaking of which, he’s been decidedly absent for a while now. Quiet, compared to how he usually is. I don’t trust it.”
Otis folded a T-shirt and placed it in Vlad’s duffel bag. “Think he’s working on some sordid plan to do you in?”
“Count on it. I’m that guy’s favorite hobby.”
“Maybe he’s changed.”
They exchanged looks and burst out laughing.
Vlad shook his head. “The question isn’t if he’s planning anything ... it’s what.”
A smile danced on Otis’s lips. “You’re very wise for being only sixteen years of age.”
Vlad met his smile with one of his own. “I learned from the best. This really old guy I know, goes by the name Otis. You might know him.”
Otis rolled his eyes. “I’m hardly old.”
“Oh, really? What year were you born?”
“Age is more than just a number, Vladimir.”
Vlad grew quiet for a moment, thinking about the immense age differen
ce between Otis and Nelly. He wondered if he would just go on aging or if at some point in his life, time would freeze for him as well. “Have you told Nelly? Y’know, that you might not be coming back?”
“No. There’s no need to upset her right now. She’ll learn of my death soon enough.” His words seemed so final, like there wasn’t even a remote chance that he’d survive his trial. He withdrew a parchment envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Vlad. “If you would. It’s for Nelly. To explain why you’ve returned home without me.”
“But, Otis. .. ”
“Please, Vladimir.” Otis’s somber gaze showed that he meant business. It also meant that he didn’t want to entertain any far-fetched notions of him possibly surviving his trial proceedings. “For me.”
Vlad gripped the envelope in his hand and offered his uncle a small nod. Just moments ago they were laughing, and now, a solemn feeling hung in the air. He would be escorting Otis to his funeral in just a few hours.
“Who wants cookies? I just pulled some out of the oven, and I thought you boys might...” Nelly’s voice was almost singsongy as she entered the room. Her face dropped as she looked at each of them. “What’s wrong? You both look upset.”
Vlad and Otis exchanged looks and at once, Otis said, “Not a thing, darling. Vlad’s just feeling rather sullen about going on another trip without you. I must admit, I share his troubles. Is that chocolate chip I smell?”
Nelly’s smile returned and she held up the plate of freshly baked goods. Otis plucked one from the plate and took a bite. “Mmmm. Warm chocolate chip cookies. Not even AB negative can compare.”
Nelly practically floated down the stairs and, just before he turned to follow, Otis flashed Vlad a look that said everything, without speaking or using telepathy. Don’t ruin this day for her. Give her one last moment with me to hold onto. Please.
Before zipping up the duffel bag, Vlad slipped Otis’s letter inside and hoped beyond hope that Nelly would never have to see it. He carried the bag downstairs and dropped it next to the front door before retiring to the kitchen for a few cookies of his own. Once he was there, he put on a pleasant smile and endured chatter about the vacation Otis and Nelly had been thinking about. He pretended that Otis was really coming back from New York and that when he did, he was going to propose to Nelly and they were going to live happily as a family. He pretended that everything was just fine, and that he and Otis had years left together, and after he pretended for a while, he began to believe it.