The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills (29 page)

BOOK: The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills
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Standing there at the pyre, Vlad tried to think of the words he wanted to leave his father’s immortal soul with, the words that would say goodbye forever, that would sum up his final moments spent thinking about Tomas Tod. After a long, silent moment, Vlad said, “You were wrong about Otis. He is my father. In every way that counts.”
He dropped his voice to a whisper then, flicking his eyes from the pyre to the carefully wrapped body which lay to the side, awaiting burning. “Wherever we go after this life, I hope that you’re there, and I hope that Mom and Nelly forgive you in ways that I can’t
As Vlad turned, he saw Otis lift Tomas’s body and place it on the pyre. Vlad turned and walked slowly from his father’s funeral, feeling lighter somehow, feeling right. Feeling justified.
The sun crept over the horizon then and behind him, Tomas’s body burst into an explosion of heat and flames.
All Vlad could think was one word. A word he couldn’t bring himself to say until now.
“Goodbye.”
43
FLOWERS FOR NELLY
V
LAD CLUTCHED THE BOUQUET OF DAISIES in his hand, trying hard not to crush the delicate stems and failing miserably. Nelly loved daisies. She’d tried numerous times to plant them in the flower beds around her home, but Amenti kept eating them. Vlad wondered if Amenti was adjusting to her new home at the McMillans, and if she was eating all Matilda’s daisies too. He missed Amenti.
He missed Nelly.
It was raining out, but only a little. Just enough to mist Vlad’s face and mask his tears. Believing in silly superstitions like rain on a wedding day bringing good luck, Nelly would’ve been oddly optimistic about rain on the day of her funeral.
Vlad dropped his eyes to his suit. He was supposed to be wearing it to her wedding. Not this.
People had already stood and shared their memories of his aunt, but not Vlad. His voice, like Nelly, was nowhere to be found. As the last of the crowd filed by her coffin, Vlad stood, his heart heavy, and approached. The coffin was closed, at Vlad’s request. He couldn’t bear looking at Nelly’s body couldn’t bear the thought of people thinking that this shell was really her, when the real Nelly was now wherever his mom was.
With a deep breath, Vlad laid the daisies on top of Nelly’s coffin and whispered, “I love you, Nelly. You were a good aunt, a good mom. I miss you.”
As he walked away, Otis caught him in a tight, sorrowful embrace. Vlad stood there, letting Otis hug him, letting Otis cry. But Vlad did neither.
He was numb.
44
THE RETRIAL
V
LAD STRAIGHTENED HIS SHOULDERS and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. The air inside the small room located beneath V Bar was stuffy and felt thick, but that might just have been Vlad’s perception of it. He was, after all, here to face his retrial, and with it, the decision of the Council of Elders on whether or not he would live.
He was betting on dying. Everything about vampiric law, after all, insisted on it.
He just wished they’d get on with it already.
The nine council members had been whispering for some time now, but when the president turned toward Vlad, he found himself holding his breath.
Time held still.
Then the familiar face smiled, and Vlad heard words that he never dreamed that he would hear. “Vladimir Tod. This council deems that while you may not be innocent of all charges, we cannot prosecute you due to lack of information. As D’Ablo was the sole witness to your crimes and is now deceased ... he cannot attest to your guilt. You are free to go.”
Vlad searched his uncle’s eyes and found only truth.
Otis smiled.
It was strange to be put on trial by his only living relative and closest confidant, but once Vikas had died of what was now being referred to as a terrible accident, Otis had opted to take Vikas’s seat on the council. He was insistent, in fact, that it was time for Elysia to learn to be right and just and fair. Then, after Em had disappeared following the attempted—and failed—cleansing of Bathory, his fellow council members insisted that Otis lead them by taking her seat. To his right, in D’Ablo’s chair, was Cratus—a vampire Vlad had met briefly last year.
Things were different now. Em’s tyranny was no longer clouding the Council of Elders, and no one on the council—to Vlad’s knowledge—had anything to do with Tomas’s sordid plans to raise Vlad up as some evil being who would control vampirekind’s every move. Vlad was the Pravus, and the majority of Elysia had accepted that fact. But the definition of what that meant had changed. Vlad would do everything he could to define the Pravus as a peacemaker, as a bridge between worlds.
As the council filed out, chatting casually, Vlad approached the table, where his uncle was still sitting. “So does this mean you’re moving to New York, Otis?”
“Not at all. The Council of Elders only convenes a few times a year. I’d prefer to continue living in Bathory. Besides ... I’ve just accepted the position of principal at Bathory High.” Otis’s eyes twinkled—something they hadn’t done even once since the day they’d lost Nelly. It was good to see. Vlad shook his head, chuckling. “You like going there every day, don’t you? It’s like you feel some kind of connection with that school or something.”
“Absolutely. In fact ... I was a priest at that church many moons ago.” Something dark and strangely full of bemusement crossed Otis’s eyes then, and Vlad thought back to the stories that upperclassmen had passed down to freshmen, about the vampire priest in that church who’d drained his congregation dry years and years ago, before Bathory High was a school. He parted his lips to ask if the rumors were true, but Otis cut him off with a smirk. “But that’s a story for another time.”
Vlad shook his head, a small smile curling his lips. There was so much more to Otis than even he knew, and now they had ages to share things together. It was easy to let go of his curiosity for the time being. After all, something was happening that Vlad had been certain wouldn’t.
He’d survived his retrial.
He was going to live.
45
GRADUATION
V
LAD LOOKED IN THE MIRROR AND PRACTICED his fake smile—the same fake smile he’d been practicing for months now. He’d need it today of all days. Besides, Nelly would have wanted him to smile at his high school graduation.
But there was no way he was putting on that stupid square hat until they got to the school.
“All set?” Otis peeked his head into Vlad’s room. Boxes still lined the walls, but Vlad was relieved to be back in Nelly’s house, even if it was only temporary, only until he started classes at Stokerton University in the fall. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit his dad’s house ever since Tomas’s death, but neither had Otis, so Otis hired movers to gather their things and bring them back to Nelly’s house. It was Vlad’s house now, thanks to Nelly’s will, and he was happy to share it with Otis, who looked anxious to get going.
“Just about. It’s not like it takes much for a guy to get ready for this, Otis. You’re starting to sound like Nelly.” He smiled—a genuine smile—but it didn’t last. His joke had brought about that look again, that shadowy, sad look in Otis’s eyes. Instantly, Vlad felt ashamed. He should know better than to bring up Nelly. Her death had aged Otis, had hurt him in ways that Vlad could only imagine. Vlad opened his mouth to apologize, but Otis waved him off and hurried downstairs.
Vlad dropped his gaze to the black graduation gown he was wearing. Whose idea was it that forcing people to wear giant muumuus and cardboard squares on their heads and then parade in front of people was the way to celebrate surviving thirteen years of school anyway?
Shrugging, he picked up his cardboard hat and paused in front of his dresser. From atop the wooden surface, Vlad plucked the necklace that now held his parents’ wedding rings and clasped it around his neck, tucking it into his gown. From inside the top drawer, he withdrew his secret box, and from within that, he withdrew his father’s onyx ring. Slipping it onto his finger, Vlad made his way down the stairs.
He was ready. Ready to face Bathory High just one last time.
Otis was waiting for him outside, next to his crappy car. He was wearing a gray and black three-piece suit, and his infamous rumpled purple top hat, which had been recently repaired, removing all signs of Tomas’s handiwork.
“Why do you wear that thing, Otis? It’s not like it matches anything you own.”
Otis smiled—a true, honest smile that came from the heart. “This hat was a gift to me from a young woman whom I had taught several years ago.”
“But still. Why?” Vlad wrinkled his nose. He swore he saw moth holes in the purple fabric. “It’s kind of an ugly hat.”
Otis smiled a faraway smile, one that said that he was thinking about long ago times and happy memories. “I wear it because it reminds me of her, even if she’d long since forgotten the man she gave it to, the man who taught mythology at her college for merely one semester her sophomore year.”
Vlad shook his head, sighing. It was clear his uncle wasn’t going to ditch the hat, and he still wasn’t sure why. “She must have been pretty special.”
“She was. A shame about her taste in hats.” The smile on Otis’s lips spread to his eyes. “She couldn’t cook either. Your aunt never could ...”
Vlad almost choked on a gasp. “Nelly?! You knew Nelly before you came here?”
Otis nodded. “I knew it was her the moment I saw her, but if she remembered me, she never said. Still ... I like to think the hat gave me away. I like to think she remembered the bumbling mythology teacher she gifted with a terrible hat.”
A lumped formed in Vlad’s throat. He could barely speak around it. “That’s ... that’s really sweet, Otis.”
Otis flipped open his pocket watch and frowned. “And we’re really late.”
They drove fairly quickly to the high school without another word. Otis had just put the car into park when he put a hand on Vlad’s arm, stopping him from opening the door. Vlad raised an eyebrow. “But we’re late ...”
“This is important, Vladimir.” It was Otis’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Would you mind?”
With a smile, Vlad focused, slowing down everything and everyone around them until only he and Otis could move or speak. It was like putting life on pause—one of his many Pravus traits. From the glove compartment, Otis withdrew a thin black box. He handed it to Vlad, some trepidation in his eyes. “You should have this, especially in light of recent events.”
Vlad lifted the lid. Inside were a small pile of documents. At the top of the first was the word “deed.” Vlad furrowed his brow. “What is this, Otis?”
“It’s the deed to Tomas’s home, in England. It still stands, has been perfectly preserved, in fact. It’s the last place your father lived as a human, and where he spent much time while on the run from Elysia. It’s yours ...” His uncle flicked his eyes to him. “... if you want it.”
Vlad nodded. He did want it. He’d loved his dad. Even if his dad had been too maniacal and selfish to love him back. “You’ll stay, won’t you, Otis? With me, I mean.”
Otis smiled as Vlad brought the world back into motion. Birds once again flew overhead. People were walking by, chattering. Cars were driving down the street again. “Forever and a day, Vladimir. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
A knock on the window startled Vlad, but he should have been expecting it. Outside, Henry and October were looking incredibly impatient. Vlad couldn’t help but notice they were wearing matching hickeys.
Otis nodded for Vlad to go and when he opened the door, Henry said, “Where have you been? It’s almost time!”
“Afraid they’ll change their mind about you, Henry?” Vlad smirked.
October grinned. “He’s just excited, Vlad. We all are. Stoker U!!!”
Vlad raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s Stokerton University, October. Who calls it Stoker U?”
“I do.”
Henry grinned and laced his fingers with October’s. Vlad couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. They were a great couple, good for one another in every way. October was wild and free and unique. Henry was grounded and real. And together, they were about the happiest couple that Vlad had ever seen.
They moved toward the graduation grounds, Otis hurrying on ahead—faculty was supposed to arrive a half hour before—and on the way, Vlad noticed another couple, a couple that brought a lump to his throat, a couple that he was still torn by the presence of.
Joss and Meredith were holding hands, smiling sweetly into each other’s eyes. At the sight of him, Joss seemed to shrink back some, but Meredith held fast onto his hand.
Despite everything, Vlad was still extremely weirded out by the fact that they were dating.
Meredith smiled, her lips shimmering pink. “Hey Vlad. All ready to graduate?”
“If it means never coming back to Bathory High, then yes. I was ready four years ago.” Vlad sighed, a smirk touching the corners of his lips. “So... where are you going to college, Meredith? Stokerton U?”
“You mean Stoker U.” October shrugged when everyone blinked at her. “What? I’m trying to start a trend.”
Meredith shook her head. “Not for me. I’m headed for the University of California.”
Vlad glanced at Joss. “You too, Joss?”
“Actually I’m taking a break between high school and college. But I’ll get there.” Joss slipped his hand from Meredith’s for a moment and tugged on Vlad’s sleeve. “Listen, Vlad ... can we talk in private for a second?”
Nodding, Vlad stepped to the side, away from the group, where he and Joss could talk.
Joss dropped his eyes to the ground. “I wanted to apologize for everything. The Slayers were way wrong, and everything I did to you ... I’m sorry, okay?”
“I’m sorry, too. For everything. But Joss ... if you keep insisting on apologizing, you’ll never get past this. I forgave you months ago, remember?” Vlad gripped Joss tightly in a hug, patting his back. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? And ... take care of Meredith?”
BOOK: The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills
4.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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