The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills (11 page)

With a heavy sigh, he met her gaze. “Good night, Meredith.”

She nodded, as if he’d answered her question with his less than forthcoming reply. “Good night, Vlad.”

T
HE TEMPERATURE HAD DROPPED SOME, hinting that summer was on its way out already, and autumn was just around the corner. Which meant that school was also just around the bend. School. Full of tests and books and teachers and the dull doldrums of Vlad’s senior year.

On the upside, there were also dances, lunchtime goofery, and the general bliss of knowing that, assuming he passed all of his classes, it was his last year at Bathory High. His final moments. Which meant saying goodbye—something that Vlad was experienced at. Something he had been preparing for, for many years.

After all, he’d known better than many of the kids he went to school with what it meant to say goodbye. To Vlad, saying goodbye was a painful, sometimes impossible thing to do.

But for now, he pushed thoughts of school away and looked at his dad, who was standing at his side, staring down at all that was left of Mellina’s memory. The tombstone’s inscription lied about who was buried there, including his father’s name only because he and Nelly had made an assumption. But the truth, the truth of her name, stood out like a deep, dark shadow on the pale gray of the headstone. MELLINA TOD: BELOVED MOTHER AND WIFE, GONE FOREVER. Sure, the inscription didn’t read that. But it might as well have.

Beside him, his father stared sorrowfully at Mellina’s grave. No tears fell, but Vlad could tell he’d shed more than a few already over the loss of his wife.

Clearing his throat, Vlad said, “Do you think she’d be proud of me?”

Tomas didn’t miss a beat. “Immensely proud. Without a doubt.”

Vlad sighed, brushing the bangs from his eyes. “I barely squeak by my math classes. I can’t keep a girlfriend. I’m not exactly Mr. Popularity. Do you think she’d care about any of that?”

His dad shook his head, his eyes still on Mellina’s headstone. “Not even for a second. Your mother would be very proud of the man you’re becoming, Vlad.”

Vlad swallowed hard, hesitating for a moment before he spoke. “Are you?”

The hint of a smile touched his lips as he met Vlad’s eyes. “Absolutely.”

Vlad felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders, from his soul.

His dad was proud of him. Despite everything. Despite all of his flaws. Despite his initial anger at Tomas’s return.

The world swirled before Vlad’s eyes. Instantly, he was transported into a waking movie, the same way he had been right after he’d drank from Dorian. He saw himself at Nelly’s house, standing behind his father, behind Otis, who all looked intensely angry. Nelly was off to the side, her eyes wide, terrified. Standing in front of them were two vampires, their fangs exposed. The tall, thin vampire growled, “... come with us now, or we will kill your human.”

His eyes moved to Nelly and the vision went away just as quickly as it had come, swirling down the imaginary drain it had slithered up. Vlad’s heart rammed against his chest.

When he came back to the cemetery, back to reality, he was lying on the ground. His father was looking at him with frightened eyes, as if Vlad had simply crumpled to the ground without warning. Vlad jumped to his feet and took off toward Nelly’s house, dragging his dad by the sleeve. “We have to get to Nelly! There are vampires there. Nelly’s in danger!”

They both broke into a run, but not before Tomas said, “How do you know, Vlad? How do you know that’s true?”

An image passed through Vlad’s mind—Dorian, wise, dangerous Dorian, lying bleeding, dying at the hand of Joss. Vlad had drunk his blood because Dorian insisted, and it had changed him forever. It had given him visions—two now—of the future.

But he said none of this. Instead, he said, “I just know, okay? Now let’s move.”

Vlad raced ahead, the wind whipping through his hair as he ran. He didn’t think about any of his fellow Bathory residents or what they might think if they saw him moving with such incredible, inhuman speed. He only thought of Nelly, and how he was going to protect her from the vampires in his vision.

When they arrived at the house, Vlad moved up the steps and through the front door in one fluid motion. Two men, two vampire men, were sitting on the sofa, looking expectantly at the door as Vlad stepped inside. Otis was standing in the living room, looking paler than usual. Nelly stood in the archway near the stairs, a confused and frightened look in her eyes. The secret of Vlad’s trial and sentencing wasn’t secret from her anymore. His dad stepped in behind him and when he saw the vampires Vlad had predicted, he cast his son a nervous glance.

Vlad glared at the newcomers. “What do you want?”

The taller, thinner vampire stood, his jaw set. “Em sent us to ask about your progress in locating your father.”

The shorter vampire, who was kind of stocky, slowly stood, his eyes on Tomas. “Tomas Tod? You’re ... alive? This ... this cannot be.”

Vlad’s heart sank. If they knew his dad was alive, and that Vlad had found him, there was no reason to wait any longer. It was time to carry out Tomas’s trial and his subsequent punishment. Without delay.

And they wouldn’t have known about Tomas if Vlad hadn’t rushed his dad back in a panic.

Tomas stepped forward, his shoulders straight and proud, his jaw set. He placed a supportive, comforting hand on Vlad’s right shoulder and stared the vampires down. “Neither I nor my son will be accompanying you to our demise. Not now. Not ever, gentlemen.”

The shorter vampire sounded aghast. “Your trial is imminent, Tomas, and will be presided over by Em herself. Your—and your son’s, I’d wager—sentence awaits. There’s no denying it. And you, what, you plan to interfere? To refuse to come face the Council of Elders?”

“We do.” Otis moved forward then as well, placing his hand on Vlad’s left shoulder and glaring. “As my brother said, gentlemen. You can’t have him. Ever.”

The tall, thin vampire growled, “Tomas will come with us now, or we will kill your human.”

His eyes moved to Nelly and Vlad’s heart shot into his throat.

He’d seen this. He’d lived this. It was the future, and Vlad had known it was coming about in just this way. Clearly, drinking Dorian’s blood wouldn’t just reveal the prophecy to him. It would also reveal the future. And who knows what else?

Vlad stepped in front of his aunt and shook his head, growling, “If you lay as much as one finger on her, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

With his peripheral vision, Vlad saw Otis move quietly to the bookcase, the one containing Nelly’s cookbooks. He saw Otis’s hand stretch out and close over a large glass paperweight. What did Otis think he was going to do, knock them out with a paperweight? Highly unlikely. Besides, they were powerful vampires, built for speed and out for blood. It didn’t exactly seem like the smartest plan.

Ignoring his uncle, he focused on the vampires in front of him, who’d both bared their fangs and were eyeing Nelly like she was their next meal.

Tomas growled, “I’m giving you both fair warning. Leave now, before someone gets hurt.”

Em’s cronies turned their attention to Tomas then, and the three began arguing in Elysian code. Vlad turned to check on Nelly, and as he did, he saw what Otis was up to.

Otis had bitten his finger and was dragging it hastily across the paperweight in the shape of his Mark.

A glyph. Otis was making a glyph. But what for?

Then Vlad had his answer.

The glyph glowed red. Hot, bright, noticeably red. And Vlad recalled a conversation they’d had about glyphs, and how Otis had warned him never to touch a red glyph, not ever.

Otis shouted, “Tomas!”

Immediately, Vlad’s dad stepped out of the way, as if he’d known full well what Otis had been planning, had been doing. Otis tossed the paperweight toward the vampires. Instinctively, the taller one caught it.

He had time enough to blink questioningly before his entire body crumbled to dust.

The room fell completely, utterly, painfully silent.

Nelly broke the silence with a gasp. With barely a breath, Otis whisked her from the room. From the kitchen, Vlad heard Otis’s voice rising and falling in comforting tones. Nelly’s voice followed, shaking slightly. He was protecting her, and explaining away what had just happened. Vlad wondered if any other human on the planet knew as much about Elysia as Nelly did now. He doubted it.

Tomas moved toward the shorter vampire, whose bottom lip was quivering, and began to speak, his voice eerily calm. So calm, in fact, that it sent a strange shiver up Vlad’s spine. “You are being allowed to live, but only because my brother and I have deemed it necessary to our cause that you do so. We feel no pity for you. Nor do we feel any measure of trust. Do you understand?”

The vampire nodded, his terrified eyes on the paperweight, which lay in the pile of ash on the carpet.

“Good.” Tomas stepped closer, until Vlad was certain his hot breath was brushing the man’s forehead. “You will go back to Em, and you will deliver her this message. Failing to do so will bring hell on your heels. A hell you cannot possibly understand and do not want. Do you understand?”

The vampire whimpered and nodded again.

Vlad stood fascinated. His dad seemed so powerful, so strong, so cunning. It was no wonder to him how Tomas had survived all those years on his own. He was strong. Like Vlad only wished he could be.

“You will tell Em that there has been no sign of Tomas Tod, but his son continues to search. You will tell her that on your way out of town, you and your friend were attacked by a small group of Slayers, and after they dispatched your friend, you fought them off valiantly, but not before overhearing that they were headed to Italy. Promise her with your life that she will find the Slayers there. Tell her this, and mean it as you’ve never meant anything before. I want you to believe it so that she will believe it. And so help you if she doesn’t.” Tomas’s tone was still very calm as he spoke, and Vlad would have bet that he was feeding his mind control into the vampire’s thoughts. The sound of his tone gave Vlad a frightened chill. He could only imagine how the other vampire was feeling.

Otis returned to the room, exchanging nods with Tomas, who growled at the vampire. “Now go.”

V
LAD WATCHED THE SKY as Henry drove them back from the Stokerton Mall. During the drive, he’d explained to Henry all about his vision, Em, and her cronies. After he’d explained, Henry had asked why he’d agreed to go to the mall after all of that. The answer was simple: because sometimes even half-vampires just want to act like normal teenagers. The sky was big and blue and beautiful, but he couldn’t help but focus on how empty it was, how empty the entire experience was, without Snow.

He missed her. And he was trying not to think about her. Only he was failing miserably.

He closed his eyes for a minute and pretended that the cool breeze brushing his hair back from his eyes was Snow’s hand. It was enough to bring a smile to his face. One that burst like a bubble when he opened his eyes and she wasn’t there.

Henry turned down the street, then pulled up in front of Nelly’s house and let the car idle. Vlad started to open the door to get out, then closed it again and looked at his friend.

Henry met his eyes and shrugged. “What? Something wrong?”

Vlad chose his words carefully. “Dude, my dad’s been back for like a week now and you still haven’t been over to see him. What’s up with that? He’d really like to see you.”

Henry flinched, as if he’d been hoping he could skate by for a few more weeks on lame excuses. He put the car in park and cut the engine, then turned to Vlad with a sigh. “Your dad was always the coolest guy on the block, Vlad. I liked him, actually liked him better than my dad. It seriously bummed me out when he died.”

Henry flicked him a glance, one full of uncertainty. “Well, you know what I mean. When he ... when he disappeared.”

“I know it’s weird that he’s back, that he’s still alive and all that, but Henry ... he needs us. All of us.” Frustrated, Vlad ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just ... lonely, y’know? I feel bad for him. All he tried to do was the right thing and now when he comes back, trying once again to do the right thing, he gets punished for it. Everybody was mad at him, and even though that’s changed now, even though Otis and Nelly are being nicer to him and have forgiven him and all, I can tell it still bothers him that we were all so upset. Not to mention that he walks into a huge mess—my mess—and feels the need to come to my rescue. So please, for me, for my dad ... just come inside and say hi.”

The street was quiet, as usual. No kids playing, no dogs barking. It was just as it had always been, but for Vlad, it felt different now. His dad’s return had changed everything. He only hoped that it hadn’t changed the one thing in this world that he could count on for sure—that Henry would have his back and support him in this too.

Henry stared out the windshield for a moment, and then sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of frustration or regret. It was one of resolve. “Where’s he been this whole time?”

Vlad shrugged slightly. “Everywhere. Nowhere. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that my dad’s not dead.”

Henry pulled his keys from the ignition and opened the driver’s side door. Hesitantly hopeful, Vlad said, “Where are you going?”

“To see your dad. He sounds like he could use some company.”

A small smile touched Vlad’s lips. He didn’t know why he ever doubted his best friend. Henry always had his back, no matter what. “Thanks, Henry.”

“You’re welcome, but I’m not doing it for you, Vlad. I’m doing it for him ... and for me.” Henry slid from his seat, stepped out the door and closed it in one fluid motion. Vlad followed him into Nelly’s house, still smiling.