Ninth Grade Slays (14 page)

He turned from the fire and took one step before he paused and whispered into the chilly air. “And don't worry, Dad. I'll never say good-bye. Otis is right. No one can ask that of me. Ever.”

Vlad quickened his pace and hurried into the largest cabin. The door had just closed behind him when the sunlight hit the pyre.

13

MIND CONTROL

VLAD OPENED THE DOOR to find Vikas waiting. "Come, Vladimir. It is time to learn.”

Blinking back tears, Vlad said, "So, the funeral is over?”

Vikas nodded. "For the most part. We will continue our fast until nightfall and then feast. Only then is the funeral officially at an end. Mind you, you may not have much luck with telepathy or mind control while you hunger, but we must try. There isn't much time before you return to the Americas.”

“Actually,” Vlad began timidly, “I find it easier to read minds when I'm hungry.”

Vikas eyed him for a moment with what looked to Vlad like disbelief. After several seconds, he took a breath and released it in a sigh. “Perhaps I will not be the only teacher this week. Are you ready to begin?”

Vlad shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “What do I do?”

“You come with me. We want no distractions.” He crossed the room to another door, and they moved outside the other end of the cabin. As they moved down the steps and began crossing the snow toward another cabin, Vikas explained, “This place that I am taking you, it is a room without windows, without light, and so well insulated that it is also without external noise. You may panic at first, but hold your will. The idea is to remove any external influences so that you may tap into your deepest telepathic powers.”

Vlad swallowed the lump in his throat, which hadn't been there a moment before. “Will you go in with me?”

Vikas cast him a reassuring glance. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

A small cabin was ahead of them. True to Vikas's words, it had no windows and only one door. With a deep breath for bravery, Vlad followed Vikas up the steps and inside. The light from outside drew a long line along the floor. Vlad could see two stools in the middle of the room; that was all there was. When Vikas closed the door, Vlad felt as if he might never see that light again. He took several calming breaths before looking around. It was useless—the room was pitch-black. The only sound was Vlad's breathing and Vikas's slow, steady heartbeat.

“Now, Mahlyenki Dyavol, I want you to focus on your heart, on the blood pumping through your veins, on the air as it enters and exits your lungs. Feel the life within you, the energies pouring out of you.”

Vlad did as he was instructed. At first, he closed his eyes, but once he realized what a ridiculous and futile action that was, he opened them wide to the dark room. His heartbeat had slowed some, not as calm as Vikas's, but calmer than it had been. His blood rushed through his veins, and his breaths were deep and even.

Vikas's voice was soft and coaxing. "Good. Very good. Now push gently with your mind into mine. What am I thinking at this moment?”

"You're thinking”—Vlad choked back tears—"you're thinking about how much I look like my dad.”

"Very good, Vladimir. Now I want you to focus on Otis. Where is he? What is he doing, thinking? How does he feel? Push hard if you have to and don't be disappointed if you can't reach him. Distance is something that many vampires struggle with.”

Vlad took a deep breath and pictured Otis's face in his mind. He thought of blood and how empty his stomach was, how delicious a nice warm blood bag would be right about now. Then he pushed with his mind.

Otis removed his gloves with shaking fingers. He hadn't realized how difficult it would be to see Vlad go through the funeral festivities. The entire time, he could feel pain emanating from his nephew but could do nothing to stop it. Vikas was teaching the boy already, and Otis couldn't help but wonder what might be unearthed in the training room. Whatever happened, it would be a glimpse of how powerful Vlad might one day become. It was in this room that a vampire had no distractions from his powers, so it was there that he could experience a taste of what practice and experience might lead to. Many a vampire had left the room disappointed and feeling weak. Otis recalled leaving the room full of hope. He'd demonstrated skill beyond his level of understanding and hoped that much for Vlad. But there was no telling, not with his mother's human blood tainting his veins. He might leave with the knowledge that he would never get past the basics. A disappointment for them both.

Otis rested his head in his hands. But what if the prophecy were right? What if Vladimir was the Pravus?

Otis sat up suddenly. In his mind, he felt a curious prickling, almost as if someone was poking around in there. . . .

Vlad pulled out of Otis's thoughts with a gasp.

Vikas's tone sounded slightly anxious. “You saw something. This surprised you. Tell me how it is that you read minds. Do you see the words written? Hear them?”

Vlad cleared his throat. “Neither. I kind of become the person. I see and hear and feel and think along with them.”

Vikas was quiet for a long time. Vlad was about to ask if something was wrong, when he finally spoke. Vlad thought he detected a note of excitement and surprise in his tone. “You mentioned your drudge last evening. Where is he?”

“Henry? He's back in Bathory.” Vlad strained but couldn't recall having brought up Henry at all the night before. “Why?”

“Reach him with your mind.” Vikas's voice was calm again, but it felt to Vlad as if Vikas was trying hard to keep it so.

“That's halfway around the world. I don't think I can—”

“Try. The chamber removes the difficulties you encounter in your normal routine. In here, you may reach people you had little or no success at reaching outside.”

Vlad sighed and relaxed his muscles. He focused on Henry and pushed.

Henry looked over at Joss. He had no idea what his cousin was doing, but it certainly wasn't winning. He pushed the turbo button, slashed Joss's android to pieces, and raised his arms triumphantly above his head. There was no doubt about it, Joss was even worse at video games than Vlad.

But at least Vlad was a challenge at times.

Vlad pulled out of Henry's mind with a smirk and made a mental note to play against Joss more. If nothing else, it might be good for his self-esteem.

“Excellent. You are indeed skilled, Mahlyenki Dyavol.” Vikas took a deep breath. “Now we move on to mind control. I want you to push into Otis's mind again. But this time, I want you to insert an action into his thought process. Take over control gently, so that he is completely unaware, and make him scratch his forehead.”

Vlad shifted his feet but he didn't push into Otis's mind. It felt weird, the idea of controlling Otis. Henry was one thing, but this was his uncle.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I just . . .” Vlad cleared his throat and tried impossibly to look at Vikas in the darkness. “If you don't mind, I'd rather focus on—”

“Vladimir, this is an important part of your lessons. You must learn to control the minds of others. Your drudge will be much easier to control. After that, those whom you care little or nothing for. The most difficult to control are those closest to you, whom you feel great affection for. This is a mental block that most vampires cannot break. But you have the potential to become as great a vampire as I have ever seen. More powerful than your father. Indeed, perhaps even more powerful than myself. But you must—”

“None of that matters to me.” Vlad's voice shook slightly. He really didn't want to disappoint Vikas, but this was something he wasn't willing to budge on. If controlling Henry made him feel even slightly guilty, controlling his uncle would make him feel entirely sick.

Vikas lowered his voice so that Vlad had to strain in order to hear him. “But it should. So few vampires have your potential. I had thought your mother's blood would dilute your abilities, but I was wrong. You could be a great vampire, Vladimir. But you must trust me.”

Vlad closed his eyes and opened them again. He'd adjusted to the darkness but had grown tired of seeing it. “I'm sorry, Vikas. I just . . . can't do what you want me to.”

“Enough. If I must be stern with you, I will. See Otis in your mind. He's sitting at the table alone, his forehead resting in his left hand.”

“Stop it. I won't.”

“Just a nudge. Just a small movement. A scratch.”

“NO!” Vlad pushed hard into Vikas's mind.

Vikas stumbled back, knocking his stool to the floor. The boy was strong, of that there was no doubt . . . but he was tired, far from home, and clearly didn't want to learn how to control the actions of others, least of all his uncle. It was time to break for the day.

Vlad pulled out of Vikas's thoughts.

“It is time to break for the day, Vladimir.”

Vlad hadn't wanted to control him, but he'd had little choice.

Vikas opened the door, and the light poured in, welcoming them outside. They'd just moved down the steps when Vikas paused. “That was uncalled for, Mahlyenki Dyavol. There was no need to control my mind.”

Vlad shook his head. He should have felt guilty but didn't. “But you wouldn't listen to reason.”

After a moment, Vikas smiled warmly. “Ah, so perhaps now you see why this is such a necessary skill to develop.”

Vlad chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. Vikas had a point.

The door to the largest cabin opened, and Otis stepped outside. There was an eager glint in his eye. “How'd it go?”

Vikas kept his voice low, but his excitement leaked through. “You were right about him, Otis. Your nephew is enormously talented. He even managed to end his lessons early with mind control.”

Otis's jaw dropped.

Vlad was about to apologize when his uncle and Vikas burst into laughter. Vikas patted him on the shoulder. “Come. We'll warm ourselves by the hearth until the feast begins.”

Vikas climbed the steps to the cabin and touched the glyph, opening the door. Vlad started to follow, but Otis stopped him with a gentle hand to the chest. Otis leaned closer and whispered into Vlad's ear, “If I ever find you lurking about in my thoughts again, Vlad, I will be most displeased. You stay out of my mind, and I'll stay out of yours. Agreed?”

Vlad flushed at all the things he'd rather his uncle didn't know about him, like his late-night trips to the belfry, and nodded. “Agreed.”

They made their way inside, and Vlad spent the better part of the day sitting in front of the hearth in a big, cushy chair, listening as Otis and Vikas recounted tales of their adventures. They spoke often of Tomas, and occasionally, one of the other vampires would join them to exchange a tale of Tomas's heroics or something humorous that had once happened to them while in Tomas's presence. At the end of yet another tale, Otis chuckled. “I told Tomas not to frighten Vikas like that, but in the end I was rather hoping he would.”

Vikas laughed loudly. “You were terrible guests that summer, and lucky that I hold no grudges.”

At one point, Vlad noticed that it seemed all of the vampires of Siberia were awake and moving about. He was about to whisper to Otis to ask why they stayed awake during this day when he realized that the answer was obvious: it was their day to honor Tomas, and as Tomas no longer slept, so they would remain awake until the feast had ended.

By the time the sun disappeared below the horizon. Vlad had almost forgotten his immense and demanding hunger.

Almost.

The door opened, and every person in the room, but for Otis, Vikas, Tristian, and Vlad, filed outside in a rush. At Vlad's raised eyebrow, Vikas smiled. “So the feast begins.”

Vlad furrowed his brow in confusion. “But there's plenty of bloodwine here. Where are they going?”

Otis and Vikas exchanged glances before Otis regarded Vlad with a somber gaze. He spoke in a gentle tone. “They go to feast from the source, Vladimir. Vikas and I will feast here with you as a courtesy.”

Vlad's stomach twisted. People. They were going to feed on people. The idea shouldn't have nauseated him, but it did. He threw a glance across the room at Tristian, who was gathering goblets and a pitcher of bloodwine. “What about Tristian? Will he feed on people tonight, too?”

Vikas sat back in his seat, surprised. “My apologies for not explaining earlier, Mahlyenki Dyavol, but Tristian is no vampire.”

Vlad sat forward slowly, confused.

“He is my faithful drudge and has been so for ten years now, since he was just your age.”

Vlad watched Tristian carry the beginnings of their feast toward them and shook his head slowly. He'd had no idea this man was anything but a vampire—even his mannerisms seemed similar to theirs. “How long will he be your drudge?”

Vikas smiled warmly at Vlad, but, Vlad noticed, he barely cast a glance at Tristian. “All his mortal life.”

Vlad took a mouthful of bloodwine, rolling the mixture over his tongue and relishing its tangy taste and silken texture. He glanced from Tristian back to Vikas. “Henry's a good drudge. I just wish he had my back a little more. He's pretty absent when it comes to these jerks at school knocking me around.”

Vikas smiled. “It is not a drudge's place to protect a vampire, Vladimir. Quite the opposite, actually. It is theirs only to watch over you as you sleep, if you slept during the day, and to recommend possible food sources, as well as run errands for you. No more. We vampires must defend ourselves.”

Vlad sighed. Great. Now not only was he less protected than he thought he was but he was also on his own when it came to bullies. He tried to picture himself and Henry existing in the same way as Vikas and Tristian, and couldn't. But one thing rang clear for him. If there ever came a time when Henry didn't want to be his drudge, Vlad would give him his freedom that moment and without question . . . if he could.