Ninth Grade Slays (22 page)

Henry's smile faded. “What do you mean?”

Vlad opened one of Henry's dresser drawers and threw a T-shirt to Henry. “That vampire that bit me? He spit some of my blood into a vial he had with him. And tonight I caught him at my old house. I need a ride to Stokerton, so I can find out why.”

Henry's jaw almost hit the floor.

Vlad picked up a pair of jeans and tossed them at him. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Henry stepped into his jeans and shook his head. “Have you forgotten neither of us knows how to operate a motor vehicle?”

Vlad was on his knees, digging out Henry's shoes from under the bed. Successful in his search, he tossed them at Henry's feet. "I realize that, but Greg can drive.”

Henry sighed and slipped his shoes on. "And you woke me up because...?”

Vlad sighed. “I need you to keep him busy while I go into Elysia.”

"Alone?! Are you nuts? You shouldn't go near that place without Otis.”

"I don't have much choice, Henry. Otis might not even be getting my letters, and whatever this guy is up to, he's up to it now.” Vlad gave him a pleading look. "Just wake your brother up and ask him, okay?”

Henry slipped the shirt on over his head and stepped quietly across the hall. He entered Greg's room, and after a mumbled conversation, a groggy Greg followed Henry back across the hall. Greg scratched his head. His hair was sticking up this way and that. "What's goin' on, Vlad? Henry says you need me to drive you into Stokerton or somethin'.”

Behind him, Henry shrugged at Vlad. No help there.

Vlad cleared his throat. "Yeah, I do, Greg. Could you?”

"Well, not without a good reason.” Greg folded his arms in front of him. "So ... what's the reason?”

Vlad looked at Henry, who shrugged, wide-eyed. Vlad said, "Twenty bucks.”

Greg grinned. “Good reason. Make it thirty, and you've got a deal.”

Vlad pulled two bills out of his wallet and handed them to Greg.

Greg glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice even further. “Meet me outside in ten minutes. I just gotta get dressed first. And be quiet—if Mom and Dad catch us, we're all in trouble.”

Minutes later, they were in the car and on their way to Stokerton. Greg asked all sorts of obnoxious questions about the girl that Vlad was sneaking out to see—it had to be a girl, Greg reasoned. Thirty bucks and two hours in the car would only really be worth it if there was a girl involved. For the most part, Vlad ignored him. Henry occasionally distracted his brother with questions about the upcoming season for the Bathory Bats. Finally, they pulled into Stokerton, and Vlad directed Greg down the streets until they came to a stop in front of the thirteen-story office building that Vlad had revisited in his sleep many times.

“Just wait here.” Vlad opened the car door and stepped out, ignoring a worried glance from Henry. The last time they'd been here, Henry had watched as Vlad defended himself to the death against D'Ablo. He walked around the corner to the hole in the wall near the Dumpster and slid inside.

The tunnel was just as cramped and filthy as he remembered. Vlad crawled through it until he reached the metal shaft that led down to the furnace. He squeezed his way upward and popped open the grate that led into one of Elysia's holding cells. As he lifted himself into the cell, it occurred to Vlad what a stupid venture this would have been if the cell door was locked. Luckily it wasn't, and it slid open with ease.

Vlad made his way down the hall, and after a brief listen at the door, he stepped into the empty council room. He crossed the room and, straining his memory to recall which way the elevator was, opened another door a crack.

Jasik passed the door and stepped into the elevator.

Vlad watched the numbers climb to thirteen and stop. He moved to the elevator and pressed the up button. Lucky for him, the building was mostly empty. When the elevator came, he stepped inside. He touched his hand to a glyph in the wood, just as his uncle had done a year before, and the panel flipped open to reveal a second set of buttons. Vlad pressed thirteen and waited.

When the doors opened, Vlad stepped out and looked around for Jasik. At the end of the hall two gloss black double doors stood open. Golden light poured from within. Vlad moved closer, sliding silently along the wall, and listened.

“So?” A pause, then a small gasp. “Excellent, Jasik. And the boy?”

“Unharmed, as you instructed.”

Vlad held his breath and peered around the corner. Jasik was sitting in a chair near the large, black desk. The other man was facing the window, clutching the vial of Vlad's blood in his hand. Neither had noticed Vlad's presence.

The man by the window straightened his shoulders but didn't tear his gaze from the view outside. “Good. I want to be there to witness his demise.”

Jasik raised an eyebrow. “I thought you believed him to be the Pravus.”

The man grew quiet before answering in a soft, almost tranquil tone. “I do. But I also must prove my belief to the world, remove all doubt. And to do so, I must take his life.”

Jasik snorted. “And violate the highest law?”

“Not at all. I've made other arrangements. You don't expect them to give me back my presidency after I've killed one of our own kind, do you?”

“Of course not.” Jasik's tone said that he wasn't exactly sure whether the man was a lawbreaker or not. “So what if you're right, and he manages to survive death?”

The man turned around slowly. His black gloves shimmered in the low light. His long coat billowed as he moved. Black leather pants clung to his legs, but his chest was bare beneath the coat. Vlad gasped at the large hole in the man's stomach. He had to place his hand over his mouth to contain the scream that threatened to boil up from within him.

D'Ablo smirked at Jasik and then held the vial of blood up to the light. “Then I want to be there to welcome him on bended knee.”

Vlad ducked out of sight, hand still clamped over his mouth. D'Ablo was alive. How was this possible? He remembered everything. The dark alley. The terrifying uncertainty as he pointed the Lucis at D'Ablo and ran his thumb over the glyph. Even Otis had said that they should just let him die. And die he had, right before Vlad's eyes.

And yet the man in the next room was D'Ablo, with the same, though somewhat smaller, hole in his stomach.

Vlad peeked around the corner again. D'Ablo had uncapped the vial of Vlad's blood and was sniffing the air above it, as a human would a fine wine. He lifted it a bit in a toasting gesture and opened his mouth as he tilted the open vial. Liquid rubies spilled from the container to D'Ablo's tongue.

D'Ablo held the liquid in his mouth for a moment, apparently savoring the flavor. His head was tilted back slightly, his eyes closed. Vlad watched D'Ablo's Adam's apple rise and fall as his blood slipped down his throat.

The office was completely silent, as if the very air feared to move. Vlad's heart drummed out a quick rhythm, pumping blood through his limbs, but his body was numb. After what seemed like an eternity, the silence was broken.

The sound was small at first, like an army of spiders moving in from far away. But it grew quickly, as if that army had started to run. Vlad watched, mesmerized, terrified, as the hole in D'Ablo's center began to move, to flex around the edges. A strand of tissue shot across the diameter of the hole, followed by another. And another. Forming a strange web of flesh—accompanied by the now deafening spider sounds. The hole through D'Ablo was closing.

Once it began, it moved very quickly. Strands gave way to muscle. Muscle joined to form organs. Organs were covered with skin. The spider sounds died down, and D'Ablo was whole again.

With carefully quiet movements, Vlad stood and slinked back down the hallway, almost knocking over a planter on his way out. It wobbled, but he steadied it and continued down the hall.

Things couldn't get much worse. His uncle was missing in action, one of his best friends wanted to kill him, and that was just the beginning.

D'Ablo was still alive.

And he still wanted Vlad dead.

Vlad took the elevator to the first floor and staggered out the front door. He opened the door to the car and slid in beside Henry.

Henry wrinkled his brow. “Everything okay?”

Vlad shook his head once and then turned to the window, hoping Henry would take a hint and lay off. There was only one person Vlad wanted to talk to about D'Ablo's return— and he wasn't answering Vlad's letters.

In the driver's seat Greg chuckled. “Women. They'll steer you wrong every time, Vlad.”

The ride home was silent, and but for the occasional nudge and worried glance from Henry, Vlad was left alone with his thoughts.

He had no idea how D'Ablo had survived having the Lucis shoot a giant hole through his stomach. Nor did he have any clue as to how Otis could have not known that D'Ablo survived. And what right did Vlad have to feel sickened by the sight of a vampire feeding on his blood, when he feasted on human blood every day? Sometimes he felt like such a hypocrite.

Vlad slumped down in his seat and watched the lights of the city disappear. Soon there was nothing to see but twinkling stars and wide-open, dark places. When people had mentioned how difficult his freshman year would be, he had no idea how right they would be. Of course, they didn't have a vindictive, evil monster coming back from the dead and chasing after them, or a slayer who just happened to be one of his best friends.

Vlad sighed. What was he going to do about Joss? He couldn't tell Joss the truth, couldn't risk exposing himself— not if Joss was carrying a wooden stake and garlic around with him. And now, with D'Ablo making plans to watch Vlad die . . . Bathory was about to become an enormously uncomfortable place for Vlad to live.

Maybe he'd luck out and Joss would stumble upon D'Ablo before D'Ablo had a chance to reach Vlad.

Vlad smirked at the thought, and then furrowed his brow.

That wasn't such a bad idea.

If Joss killed D'Ablo, it would fix everything. Joss would be satisfied in his hunt for the local vampire. D'Ablo wouldn't be around to try to take Vlad's life—presuming of course that D'Ablo stayed dead this time. And Vlad wouldn't have to reveal his secret to Joss at all. All of his problems would be solved, without the intervention of Otis.

Greg turned on the radio. The Killers were on, singing a slow tune about how everything would be all right. Vlad leaned against the door and stared up at the stars, wishing against all odds that they were right.

21

ET TU, JOSS?

VLAD PANTED FOR AIR and cast Mr. Hunjo a pleading look of desperation, but the gym teacher had clearly lost his ability to pity a dying boy, if indeed he'd ever had it. He grunted, "Keep it moving, Tod. Pick those knees up.”

Vlad rounded the corner but didn't pick up his knees. Any farther up and he'd be kneeing himself in the jaw.

Joss ran up beside him. He was barely breaking a sweat. “You okay, Vlad?”

Vlad panted between words. “No . . . dying . . . Hunjo . . . jerk . . .” If stakes and garlic were the top two things that could kill a vampire, ninth grade gym was a close third.

Joss kept stride with Vlad until they were getting ready to pass Mr. Hunjo again and then said, “No problem.” He took off at a sprint, and before Vlad could raise an exhausted eyebrow, Joss tumbled forward onto the track.

Vlad hurried over to him and helped him up. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

Joss winced as he put weight on his left leg. “My knee.” Mr. Hunjo bellowed, “Tod! Help McMillan to the nurse's office.”

Joss threw his arm around Vlad's shoulder, and Vlad helped him limp out into the hallway. As soon as the gym door closed, Joss let go of Vlad and started walking normally. Vlad smirked. “You're a quick healer.”

Joss shrugged. “Hey, I was saving us both. You from death, me from boredom.”

Vlad took a deep breath. He was ready. He'd gone over his plan for two solid weeks and could find no holes. It was going to work. “Listen, Joss, can I talk to you for a second?”

Joss held the bathroom door open for Vlad. He looked very tired—probably due to late-night monster hunting in the two weeks since his confession. “Sure thing. Step into my office.”

Vlad chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Are we cool? I mean, after I ran off the other day, I thought I might have messed up the trust we've been building.”

Joss smiled. "We're cool, Vlad. It's no big deal. I just didn't want you thinking I was some nutcase, going around killing people.”

"I don't. Well, you know, what you told me a few weeks ago about vampires and slayers had me convinced you belonged in the loony bin. But after last night... I kind of believe you.”

Joss's eyes grew wide, his tone serious. "Why? What happened last night?”

Vlad cleared his throat and darted his eyes purposely around. “I think I saw a vampire.”

Joss leaned closer. "You think or you know? We have to be certain, Vlad.”

"It was. He had fangs and was really pale.” Vlad nodded, feeling the weight of his heavy lunch in his stomach like a ball of lead.

Joss nodded. “Sounds like a bloodsucker to me.”

Vlad swallowed hard. "He attacked me and then jumped in a car and drove off toward Stokerton.”

A terrible expression crossed Joss's face—a weird mixture of curiosity, surprise, and shrewdness. Vlad was ready to experience the flight portion of the fight-or-flight response they'd just discussed in biology, when Joss said, "He attacked you and you got away?”