Eleventh Grade Burns (17 page)

Otis and Nelly joined him and the three made their way up the steps to the front door. Otis stood protectively with his hand in the small of Nelly’s back. Vlad rang the doorbell, but only for a microsecond, because Matilda had whipped open the door and rushed them all inside, greeting them each with warm hugs and holiday wishes.

It was impossible not to smile with Henry’s mom in the room.

In moments, their coats were off and Nelly and Matilda were chattering about a new stuffing recipe that Matilda was trying out this year. Henry was nowhere to be seen, so Vlad excused himself, slipped his shoes off, and headed upstairs to look for his best friend. When he reached Henry’s bedroom door, he paused at the raised voices within.

“You’re family, Henry. I care about what happens to you.”

“Joss, if you give me that crap one more time, I’m gonna punch you so hard your toes are gonna bleed. You’re not doing any of this because of some ridiculous need to protect your family. You’re doing it because you have a screwed up perception of what vampires are and Vlad got in under your radar, proving that perception wrong. It’s spite and you know it.”

“You only say those things because he has you confused. That’s what they do, Henry. They mess with people’s minds and get them to act in ways they normally wouldn’t. You’re better than this, Henry. You’re better than his mindless drone. And I’m going to set you free, one way or another.”

Vlad heard Henry step twice and then he exited the bedroom, his face flushed, his entire being seething with anger. When he saw Vlad, he calmed down a bit. “Let’s go eat turkey before I beat the crap out of my cousin.”

The way he said it, Vlad wasn’t sure if Henry wanted to eat
instead
of beating Joss to a pulp, or if he just didn’t want to do it on an empty stomach.

Once downstairs, they were met with the scent of a succulent Thanksgiving dinner. Henry’s dad, who everyone called Big Mike, and Otis were in the living room, exchanging opinions about human politics with a good-looking tan man who looked like a thirty-seven or thirty-eight-year-old version of Joss. It could only be Joss’s dad. Nelly and Matilda were chattering away in the kitchen, finishing up last minute preparations. A rail thin, pale woman, her cheeks somewhat hollow, the expression in her eyes haunted, placed warm rolls in a basket. She flinched as Vlad and Henry entered the room, knocking a butter knife to the floor. Vlad bent and retrieved it, giving her a smile as he dropped it in the sink. When he met her eyes, he realized that Joss didn’t just look like his dad. Her eyes mirrored her son’s. Vlad took a seat on the stool next to her, but slowly. Any faster and he was afraid she’d bolt. She seemed so tormented, so on edge. He felt bad for her. “You must be Joss’s mom. I’m Vlad.”

Immediately, her eyes brightened, but only for a moment. “Vladimir Tod. Joss has told me about you.”

Vlad debated that sentence for a moment, before she patted him on the hand and said, “You know, Joss never has had many friends. Just his cousin, Henry, really. Losing his sister really left him ... broken.”

That haunted look returned to her eyes. Vlad forced a smile. “Joss is a nice guy. He’s been a good—” He swallowed hard and forced the word out. “—
friend
to me. I’m glad I finally got a chance to meet you.”

It took her a second, as if she were remembering how, but finally she smiled.

When Vlad glanced over at Nelly, she was smiling too. For a moment, the venom that he had for Joss lessened a little bit.

He looked up and met Joss’s eyes as he walked into the kitchen. His slow steps and the look on his face said it all. Get away from my mom, you bloodsucking freak.

But Vlad didn’t move.

As if relenting, Joss came over to where Vlad and his mom were sitting and said, “You okay, Mom? Can I get you a drink or something?”

By “a drink,” Vlad was almost certain Joss meant “a wooden stake to jab Vlad with,” but he kept his mouth shut.

His mom shook her head and stood. “No, but you and Vladimir could get the veggie tray ready while I go wash up.”

Vlad looked around for Henry, but he had disappeared to who knows where. Nelly and Matilda grabbed a couple of platters and disappeared into the dining room, leaving Joss and Vlad completely alone. Vlad wished that he could talk to Henry’s mind the way he did with Otis. He would tell him that he needed to get back to the kitchen, now. Right now. Before his cousin did something stupid.

Joss picked up a sharp knife and stabbed it into the cutting board in front of Vlad. Instinctively, Vlad flinched. Joss glared at him and muttered, “To cut the vegetables with.”

Feeling more than a little stupid for having shown a sense of fear to a slayer, Vlad silently berated himself and reached for a carrot. After slicing four of them, as Joss worked on the celery, Vlad decided to break the silence. “Your mom is really nice.”

Joss tensed and growled, “Don’t talk to me.”

“I wish I could do just that, Joss, but there’s the matter of my father’s journal to discuss. I know you took it, and I want it back.”

Joss was quiet for a long time, and finally barked, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Only one problem: Joss was lying. He had to be.

Returning to silence, they chopped the rest of the veggies and laid them out on a round glass tray, surrounding a small bowl of ranch dip. Then Joss picked the tray up and headed into the dining room without another word. Joss had changed, that much was for certain. Vlad washed his hands, torn between the conflict of missing the old Joss and utterly despising the new one.

The dining room was about as picturesque as it could be, with a cornucopia at the center of the table and small candles in amber-colored glass holders placed here and there all over the table and room. The place settings were in various autumn colors, burgundy, bronze, gold, and pumpkin. Food sat in beautiful bowls and atop gorgeous platters. The turkey, a perfect golden brown, commanded the feast near the head of the table. It looked like a scene out of a movie, and it smelled a million times better than anything Nelly had ever prepared. So much so that Vlad found himself actually mulling over the idea of eating some human food, sans blood.

Big Mike was sitting at the head of the table, with Matilda to his right. Next to her were Joss’s mom and dad, then Joss. At the other end of the table sat Henry’s older brother, Greg, and to his right Henry, then an empty chair, then Nelly and Otis. Vlad went to the empty chair, but just as he’d begun to pull it out, Joss stood. “Don’t sit there!”

Joss’s dad said, “Joss, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not, Harold.” His mom looked even paler than before.

Vlad froze. He knew he’d been about to do something wrong but wasn’t sure what.

Joss, still glaring at Vlad, snapped, “Sit somewhere else. That’s Cecile’s seat. We always leave an open seat for Cecile.”

Matilda clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s what we’re forgetting! Henry, there’s an extra chair in the kitchen. Why don’t you grab it for Cecile? Her place can be between Greg and Joss.”

At Matilda’s nod, Vlad took his seat. Once everyone was seated and a spot was reserved for the spirit of Joss’s dead sister, Henry’s dad said, “It’s tradition in the McMillan house that we go around the table by age, oldest to youngest, and say what we’re thankful for. As I’m fairly sure I’m the oldest here—”

Vlad could barely contain a smile. He glanced over at his uncle who seemed to have the same problem. Otis won that prize for sure, but neither of them were about to argue the point.

“—I’ll go first. This year, I’m thankful first and foremost for the health and happiness of my family and good friends, as I’m certain you all are as well. I’m also thankful for my new position at the Bathory
Gazette
as editor-in-chief and for Greg making it home from college for the holidays.”

Vlad shifted in his seat. He wasn’t sure what he was thankful for, but after hearing Mr. McMillan’s speech, he knew it had to be for something far more meaningful than chocolate chip cookies.

Joss’s dad spoke, then Otis did. After him, Matilda talked about how grateful she was that everyone had joined them today and what a blessing it was that Joss’s family had moved to Bathory.

Vlad knew it was stupid, but he was starting to feel all kinds of pressure to figure out something that he was thankful for. The truth was, other than surviving Joss’s stake and dodging every death blow D’Ablo could throw him, Vlad couldn’t think of anything unique to be thankful for.

Nelly paused for a moment and everyone waited for her to speak. Finally, she smiled and said, “I’m grateful that Vlad survived that horrible accident a year and a half ago and that his health is sure and strong now, despite the fact that we almost lost him. I’m so thankful that he has all of you, his friends, because without that kind of love and support, he might not have made it. I’m thankful that Joss is back in his life, and I’m certain that their friendship will find a way through whatever darkness envelops it.”

Vlad glanced at Otis, who wore the same surprised expression that he did. Huh. Maybe Nelly wasn’t so blind to the lingering danger that Joss brought with him.

She was looking at Joss, and he was looking back. More meaning crossed that table in their eyes than Otis and Vlad could have ever managed with telepathy. Nelly had forgiven Joss for almost killing Vlad. And now she was asking Joss to forgive himself.

Joss blinked away what looked like the threat of tears and Nelly smiled reassuringly. Beside her, Otis’s expression was blank. Vlad was guessing that Otis wasn’t brimming with forgiveness for Joss just yet.

After a short pause, Greg gave his reasons for being thankful—Vlad wasn’t really listening, but it sounded like something having to do with his college baseball team. Henry only out-aged Joss by about a month, so he went first, mumbling that he was thankful that we were almost done giving thanks and could eat soon. Matilda berated him, while Big Mike just laughed. Then it was Joss’s turn.

Joss, like Nelly, was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his tone was hurting and full of venom. Vlad knew instantly that it was a message meant for him and him alone. “I’m thankful for the safety of my family, and if anyone dares to cause any one of them harm, I’m going to hunt them down and teach them what it is to feel pain.”

Mouths fell agape around the table, all but Vlad, Otis, and Henry. Then Henry mumbled something foul that ended with “you, Joss” and Matilda sent him to his room without dinner, grounding him from video games for two weeks. Once silence and order had been restored, Matilda said, “It’s your turn, Vlad. What are you thankful for?”

Vlad thought about it for a minute and then it came to him. This was it. This was how he was going to reach Joss, how he was going to cut through the distorted web of the Slayer Society and make him see the error of his ways. He made sure to meet Joss’s eyes as he spoke. “I’m thankful for you, Joss, and ... for Cecile.”

Joss clenched his jaw. It looked like he was doing everything he could not to leap over the table and stab Vlad with a carving knife.

Vlad held his gaze, meaning every word, hoping something would break through Joss’s cold exterior. Even if it backfired, at least Joss would know how he felt. “Seeing the way you talk about her makes me realize how much I missed out on not having any siblings. Luckily, I’ve found a brother in Henry ... and in you. Thank you.”

The rest of dinner passed with casual conversation. The only two who didn’t speak were Joss and Vlad.

After dinner, Joss disappeared into the guest room. Everyone else retired to the family room for after-dinner drinks and conversations about whatever it is that adults talk about when kids aren’t around. With permission from Nelly, Vlad said goodbye to everyone, making sure to stop upstairs and thank Henry for having his back and sneak him a piece of pumpkin pie from the kitchen. He hurried back downstairs and out the door, thankful for the solitary walk home.

The air was brisk, so Vlad pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears and moved down the sidewalk, stopping only to gaze up at the clear sky and the bright, twinkling stars. He was so entranced by the beauty of the night that he didn’t hear the familiar footsteps on the frosty ground. Nor did he hear the shuffling steps as Joss moved into a roundhouse kick. His chest exploded with pain and Vlad stumbled back, his tone surprised as he forced air back into his lungs. “Joss!”

“I can’t kill you yet but that doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.” His eyes were red, as if he’d recently been crying. He hissed, “How dare you say her name.”

Vlad stumbled for words, but before he could find them, a large hand closed over Joss’s throat. Joss stiffened and Vikas smiled at Vlad over Joss’s shoulder. “You would do well to treat this boy kindly, slayer. He saved your life, after all. If not for him, my friends and I would have feasted on your marrow months ago. Now find your way home.”

Joss swallowed and Vikas tightened his hand. “This creature and I have business to attend to. Release me.”

Vikas whispered in his ear, “Or you’ll what?”

For a moment, Vikas tightened his grip, as if to give Joss a taste of what awaited him should he refuse to leave. He opened his hand and Joss fell to the ground. “Go home, little one. Spend time with your family. Forget about Vladimir and enjoy your holiday weekend.”

Joss’s eyes had remained fierce throughout the encounter, though Vlad could see fear hidden in them. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his jeans. Relief took the place of fear in Joss’s eyes, and he started to back down the sidewalk toward Henry’s house. He called out to Vlad. “Do yourself a favor, Vlad. Don’t you ever say her name again. Your body-guard won’t always be there.”

Then Joss turned and broke into a run.

Vikas shook his head. “That boy is a fool.”

Vlad shook his head too, but for different reasons. “That boy is my friend ... or was, anyway. He’s been through a lot. He and his whole family have had their lives ripped apart by a vampire. No wonder he hates me. No wonder he is the way he is.”