Otis’s tone was calm and somewhat pleading. “I just want you to know that you can always talk to me, Vladimir, about anything. I will never judge you.”
Vlad’s heart raced along with his thoughts. Otis couldn’t know. There was no way. Vlad had guarded his secret too carefully for his uncle to find him out. Hadn’t he? “Well, there’s nothing to judge, is there? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Otis grew silent. After a moment, he gave Vlad’s shoulder a squeeze. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong, Vlad.”
He turned and headed down the hall, pausing at the top of the stairs. Without looking back, he said, “I know.”
Vlad froze at his uncle’s words. No truer words had ever been spoken—Otis knew. Somehow, he knew all about Vlad’s late night trips to The Crypt. He knew about Snow. He knew that while Vlad might be strong enough to stand up to D’Ablo and fight to the near death with a vampire slayer, he didn’t have the strength to admit when he was wrong.
He stood there for a long time, listening to his heart pounding in his ears. After a while, he slowly made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Otis was sitting on a stool next to the large island, a coffee mug of blood in his hand. He didn’t bother to offer any to Vlad, almost as though he assumed that Vlad’s hunger had been recently satisfied.
It had. Just a week before.
Vlad tightened his jaw and let another lie escape his lips. “I have to meet Henry now.”
As Vlad hurried out the door, slamming it behind him, Otis called out, “See you at dinner tonight.”
Great. Just what he needed.
4
MEANINGFUL CONVERSATIONS
NELLY, THIS STEAK IS DELECTABLE!”
Nelly smiled her gratitude across the table at Otis. Vlad poked his steak with his fork. It was good. Nice and raw, warm enough to encourage the blood to pool on his plate.
But it wasn’t human—a fact that was making it increasingly difficult for Vlad to finish his meal.
Otis met his eyes momentarily before engaging Nelly in some inane conversation that Vlad completely tuned out of. After several minutes of their chatter, Nelly cleared her throat, eliciting his attention. “You seem distracted tonight, Vladimir. Anything going on that I should know about?”
Plenty of stuff, Vlad thought.
Otis raised an eyebrow, but didn’t speak. Vlad flashed him a look. “Lurking around in my mind, Uncle Otis?”
Vlad turned his outward attention back to his aunt, balancing the two conversations—verbal and telepathic—with ease. “Nothing’s going on. Just not hungry, I guess.”
Otis took another bite of steak, chewing thoughtfully. “Lurking, but not poking around. What’s stuff, anyway?”
“What time is Henry picking you up?”
“Around six. Movie starts at eight, so we’ll probably wander the mall for a while. I might be back late though. I promised Snow I’d stop by The Crypt and bring her my copy of Dracula.” Simultaneously, he spoke to Otis with his mind. “It’s ... nothing, like I said this afternoon.”
“Just try to be back by ten. I don’t like these late-night stays in Stokerton. Big cities are dangerous places at night.”
Otis frowned slightly. “Nothing ... which is to say, nothing that is my business to know?”
“You catch on quick, Otis.” Vlad shook his head. “You worry too much, Nelly.”
Nelly stood and cleared the dishes away, waving off Otis’s efforts to help. When she disappeared into the kitchen, Otis met Vlad’s gaze again. “There is something I need to ask you. You walked out earlier and stole my opportunity away.”
Vlad shook his head sharply. “Don’t. Please.”
Otis furrowed his brow. “I admit I’m a bit perplexed by your reaction, Vladimir: But nevertheless ...”
Vlad looked his uncle directly in the eye, defying him to ask about his dining habits again. He wouldn’t admit to it. He couldn’t admit to it, not after all the preaching he’d done to Otis about how humans were people, not food. “I know what you’re going to ask and the answer is no.”
Otis sat back, stunned. It looked as if his heart had been ripped out. His words were merely shocked whispers in Vlad’s mind. “Just like that? No? Won’t you at least give the matter some thought?”
“What’s there to think about? You obviously already know how I feel about it, and you have no right to ask me to change that. It’s not your place and you know it.”
“I am truly sorry. I thought you would be happy. I had hoped that you would give me your blessing.”
It was Vlad’s turn to act surprised. “Wait, , , my blessing? For what, exactly?”
“Vlad, it’s likely that I won’t make it out of this trial alive, but I want you to know that if I do, I intend to ask for Nelly’s hand in marriage, and I would like to know that I would have your blessing if I did It’s no secret that I hold Nelly in the highest regard. I ... I love her, Vladimir. I want to make her my bride. I was wrong to judge Tomas so harshly. I now understand what he was trying to tell me.”
Vlad stared, unable to speak for a moment. Otis wanted to marry Nelly? He wasn’t cornering Vlad about feeding on Snow? He took a deep breath, letting that sink in for a while. It wasn’t that Otis was saying anything that he didn’t already know, but the fact that Otis had finally admitted to it really blew his mind. Vampires, after all, didn’t love humans. And if they did, they definitely wouldn’t tell anyone, and they certainly wouldn’t marry them. “What about Elysia?”
“What about it?” Nelly returned for more plates, and Otis smiled and watched her as she moved back to the kitchen. “I’m already a criminal. And there’s no use fighting it anymore. I love her. And I want a chance at happiness with her. But ... I won’t marry her without your blessing.”
Vlad thought for a moment before speaking. It wasn’t like he disapproved of his uncle marrying his guardian. But he had to watch out for her. “What about your trial? You told me that there’s a huge chance you’ll be put to death for betraying the Stokerton council and hiding me from them—I believe your exact words were ‘I do not know of a vampire who has survived an Elysian trial of this magnitude. You can’t widow her on your honeymoon, Otis. It’s not fair to her.”
“I planned to wait until after the trial to propose. Call it a lucky charm.” He smiled sadly, as if all of his hopes of surviving his trial in Elysia were resting on the notion that he might one day call Nelly his wife. “Maybe it will be enough to get me through the charges against me.”
“There are a lot of them, Otis. I mean, we were lucky they never called me to trial, after all, but you ...” Vlad met his gaze. “I don’t want to see her get hurt, Otis.”
“I want nothing more than her happiness, Vladimir You have my word.” Honesty filled Otis’s eyes.
Vlad smiled. “Then you have my blessing.”
He stood to leave the table and met his uncle’s eyes once more. “Oh and one more thing. You look terrible. You should step out for a bite later.”
Reluctantly, hope crept into Otis’s tone, as if he were worried Vlad might be pulling a fast one on him. “Meaning ... ?”
Vlad shrugged. “You know what I mean. Find yourself a hobo and chow down.”
Otis exhaled a sigh, his body visibly relaxing. “Thank you. These past few months have been excruciating.”
“Just no one from Bathory, okay?”
“Fair enough.”
A smile danced on Otis’s lips. Vlad could tell his uncle was already daydreaming about rivers of blood pouring down his throat. “I’ve missed our talks. Is there ... anything else you’d like to talk about before heading into Stokerton?”
Vlad stiffened before turning away. “No. Not at the moment, anyway.”
He shouted a goodbye to Nelly. Luckily, Henry was just pulling into the driveway in his early birthday present, a gloss black Dodge Charger, as Vlad closed the door. Vlad would be lucky if he got Otis’s piece of hand-me-down crap someday. It must be nice to be a McMillan.
/> In a few quick steps, Vlad was at the car. He opened the door and slid onto the soft leather seat with a sigh. “You have no idea how good your timing is.”
Henry flashed him a questioning glance, but Vlad waved it away. Then Henry backed out of the driveway and slammed the transmission into drive, gunning the engine until they were barreling their way out of town.
After they’d passed the edge of farmland that counted as part of town, Vlad cleared his throat. “So ...”
Henry glanced at him. “You’re wondering about Joss, right?”
Vlad nodded. Dutifully, Henry spilled all the details: The enormous U-Haul, helping his aunt and uncle with a million and one boxes, avoiding eye contact with his cousin until the truck had been emptied. Henry hesitated for a moment, and Vlad said, “Anything else?”
It was only then that he noticed the puffy, purple bruise under Henry’s right eye. “Dude, did you get in a fight with Joss?”
Henry grinned. “Busted his lip.”
Vlad raised an eyebrow, suppressing a small smile. “Why?”
His hands tensed on the steering wheel. “Nobody calls my best friend a mosquito. Especially somebody too chicken to say it in anything but a muttered whisper.”
Vlad allowed his smile to come through. “Thanks, Henry.”
“Hey, man. I got your back.”
The sky outside had faded from a soft blue to a mix of oranges and reds. Henry cranked up the stereo. Vlad watched out the window and wondered where Joss was now, what he was doing. Would he unpack before beginning his hunt for Vlad? Or would he be waiting in the shadows near Nelly’s front porch when Vlad returned home tonight?
Joss’s presence in Bathory was unsettling to say the least.
Henry turned the radio down again. “I forgot to ask you something. Melissa wants to know if you wanna go on a double date with her cousin Sara.”
Vlad shook his head. “I don’t feel like dating anyone, Henry.”
“It’s not a date. Not really. But it would do you some good to get out with other girls. Y’know?”
Vlad slumped down in his seat. The scene at last year’s Freedom Fest played over and over in his imagination. The words he’d spoken to Meredith ripped apart his insides even now. “I don’t love you. I never did. Now just ... just get away from me.”
He cast a quick glance at Henry. “Girls other than Meredith, you mean.”
Henry sighed. “Dude, what’s the big deal about Meredith? She’s just a girl. There’s probably a couple hundred at Bathory High alone.”
“She’s not just a girl. She’s ... Meredith.”
“You hardly know her, Vlad. I mean, it’s just like with everybody else—you keep your distance.”
Vlad balked. “I know her.”
Henry said, “Okay, so what’s her favorite color?”
“Pink.”
“Anybody with eyes can see that. What’s her dog’s name?”
Vlad blinked. Meredith had a dog? “I don’t ... know.”
“Beeper. Why did her family move to Bathory?”
“Well ... I ...”
“Her grandmother was sick and they needed to take care of her; they live in her old house.”
Vlad’s heart sank. The truth was he didn’t know Meredith. Not really. “Okay.”
“What does she want to do after graduation?”
“I said okay. You’ve made your point.”
“Have I?” Suddenly Henry sounded enormously frustrated. “Because my point is that you may spend a lot of time fantasizing about who you think Meredith is, but you’ve never really made the effort to know who she is outside of your day-dreams. And you’ve certainly never given her a chance to know who you really are.”
Vlad shook his head. “That’s not as easy as it sounds, Henry.”
“So you can’t tell her the vampire stuff. Fine. Don’t. But dude...” The car slowed, pausing at a four-way stop, and Henry met his eyes. “Does she even know your favorite color?”
Vlad swallowed hard. He really hadn’t noticed that he and Meredith were virtually strangers. He just knew that he loved her, and that her absence had left a huge, gaping hole at the center of his being.
Henry sighed as he pulled the car forward through the intersection. “She’s just a girl, Vlad. They all are, until you take the time to get to know them.”
Vlad rolled his eyes at the window, returning his attention to the sky. It was really annoying how Mr. Kiss Every Girl with a Pulse had morphed into Dr. Phil ever since he and Melissa had gotten serious. Clearly, a monthlong relationship was enough to fill Henry with an abundance of romantic wisdom. Riiiiight.
Vlad reached over and turned the volume knob on the stereo up, before Henry felt like sharing any more of his incredible insight on the opposite sex ... or before he threw up. Whichever came first.
5
THE TROUBLE WITH DRUDGES
HENRY PULLED INTO A PARKING SPACE at the edge of the parking lot, as far away from The Crypt as he possibly could, as if the distance made it easier to deny that he’d been to the goth club at all. He threw Vlad a glance. “Don’t take all night, okay? I told Melissa I’d call her after we got back from the movies, and her dad freaks out if I call after ten.”
Vlad resisted rolling his eyes, and then Henry cut the engine. “Son of Psycho Slasher Chainsaw Guy starts in about a half hour, so I figure you’ve got about twenty minutes before we bolt.”
Vlad flashed him an irritated look and snorted. “So... what? You’re not coming in?”
Henry softened some. “I kinda thought I’d wait out here.”
“Come on, Henry. I put up with you being at Melissa’s beck and call twenty-four/seven, the least you can do is put up with my friends wearing black eyeliner.” He cast Henry a pleading glance. “They won’t bite. Well ... most of them, anyway. I’m almost certain.”
Henry seemed to mull it over for a moment, and Vlad saw his in. Vlad smirked and said, “Y’know, you were much more adventurous before you entered the bonds of holy matrimony.”
Henry slugged him in the arm and opened the car door, stepping out into the night.
They crossed the parking lot and Vlad opened the door to the club, leading Henry down the ramp until they entered the heart of The Crypt. It was a place that Vlad had come to know quite well over the summer. He felt at home here, nonjudged, accepted for who he was—or who they thought he was, anyway. Across the room, lounging on the velvet couches, were October, Sprat, Andrew, and Kristoff. Vlad offered a wave and scanned the room for Snow. He’d just fed two weeks before, but the tension between him and Otis was making him hungrier than he’d been in a long time. Besides ... he rather enjoyed the sensation of feeding.
Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. Least of all, Otis.
Plus, he enjoyed Snow’s company immensely.
Not that he’d ever admit that to Henry.
Vlad turned his head and spied her, sipping a red syrupy drink from a plastic goblet at the bar. He smiled, willing her to notice him. She blinked, looking up, meeting his eyes, and smiled too. It was kind of cool, knowing that he could summon a girl by will alone. It made him feel kind of like Fonzie from that old Happy Days show that Nelly liked watching on Nick at Nite. Not that he was going to try the trick with the jukebox anytime soon. Come to think of it, when was the last time anyone had seen a jukebox?
He glanced at Henry, who was shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with his surroundings. A girl in a tight, black corset walked by and Henry relaxed some, raising an eyebrow at Vlad as if to say, “Who knew goth chicks were so hot?”
It was nice to see that some things never changed. Now if only he’d stop being Melissa’s lapdog.
“I’ll be right back, Henry. I’ve gotta talk to Snow in private.” He moved through the crowd, toward the back door, not bothering to meet Snow’s eyes again. She would follow. He didn’t need to look at her again to know that. On his way, he swore he heard Henry shout, “Is ‘talk to’ co
de for ‘make out with’?”
He’d just touched the door when October grabbed him by the arm. “Hey, stranger!”
Vlad smiled, casually noticing Snow’s approach. His heart picked up at the sight of her. “What’s up, October?”
“Not much. Are you here for a while or just a quick in-and-out?”
“Just stopping by. Why? Miss me?”
“Not as much as Snow has,” she chuckled. “So ... why’s Henry McMillan here? He looks lost.”
Vlad shook his head. “Not lost, just waiting on me. Why don’t you ask him to dance? He could use a babysitter while I talk to Snow.”
“Talk. Riiiight .. October laughed, and walked off toward Henry, leaving Vlad standing by the back door. He opened it and Snow walked silently outside before he followed, licking his lips.
Snow had barely breathed a hello before Vlad’s eyes were on her porcelain neck. She leaned back against the brick wall of the adjacent building and met his hungry gaze, smiling. Her lips were painted a deep red, her eyes lined heavy with black. “It hasn’t been a month yet, has it?”
Vlad was focusing so intently on his hunger that it was dif ficult to hear her words over the sound of blood rushing through her veins. “Not yet. But I was hungry. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all” As he leaned in, she brushed her hair from her neck. Her eyes widened. “Wow, your eyes are purple. Cool ...”
His fangs almost shot from his gums, and he closed his mouth over her flesh, biting down. She shivered at first and Vlad forced himself to slow down. He didn’t want to hurt her. Nor did he want this to be over with quickly. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore—it wasn’t just the blood that had called him here tonight. It was the act of feeding that he had longed for. It comforted him. It made him feel complete.
After Snow relaxed, Vlad bit down harder, opening the artery. Delicious crimson splashed over his tongue to the beat of her racing heart, and Vlad slipped his arms around her, drinking deep, feeling her entire being shake with excitement ... and fear. She tensed again and he clamped his mouth down, barely resisting the temptation to tear through her flesh completely, enjoying the taste of her blood, the sensation of her terror as he continued to feed. He heard her whisper his name, followed by the subtle breathy word, “stop,” but even then, he continued to feed. Her heartbeats began to slow, but Vlad couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. It was his nature. It was his need. His need to kill.