The Vampire's Photograph (17 page)

And Oliver thought sadly that Dean was right to be scared: Because even though Oliver told himself he would
never
bite Dean, with his face right by Dean's neck like this, he could feel Dean's pulse. He could hear the blood racing through Dean's arteries. A wave of hopelessness flashed over him. How could he fight what he was?
No
, he thought.
That's not what I am!

“Come on, Oliver!” Bane shouted from behind. Oliver tensed, preparing to jump free of Dean—

But suddenly, there was an explosion of sparkling turquoise light. Oliver was blinded.
Bane
, he started to think…

When a strange voice thundered in his head, so loud that it drowned out all his thoughts:

Oliver, don't fight it, my boy. It's time
.

Oliver lost all feeling in his body, lost track of his senses, his surroundings, and time.

Chapter 14

The Gate and the Stake

THE TURQUOISE LIGHT FADED
to darkness. Oliver had a sense of rising, of leaving his body and reality behind and moving through worlds. Was this another portal? It seemed to be.

Barriers of energy fluttered aside like curtains. Oliver couldn't see himself, but he had a sense that he was floating, moving through dark space at an incredible speed. Around him there were shrouded forms, like clouds at night. And occasionally, white streaks of light in the distance.

Suddenly, there was land below. Oliver saw a rocky landscape of knife-edge mountains and canyons filled with glowing lava. He wondered if this was a level of the Underworld, yet there were brilliant stars above, more brilliant than he'd ever seen, along with planets, and brushstrokes of galaxies that seemed close enough to touch.

And he was moving faster and faster. Now he saw buildings down among the mountains and canyons, buildings that glowed as if made of fabulous minerals—yet they blurred beneath him. More galaxies above, and nebulae like smudged rainbows, littered with diamonds. Yet they flew by, too.

Oliver
. The voice spoke again. It was calm, serene, and ancient.
This is the first step into a higher world for you
.

Who are you?
Oliver thought back wildly.

I am Illisius. I am your demon
.

Illisius
, Oliver repeated, feeling like, in some way, he'd known the name forever.

Welcome
.

Where am I?
Oliver asked.

You are in Nexia, where all worlds meet, the birthplace of the forces, where you will soon travel
.

I don't—

It's okay
. Illisius's voice was all around him, soothing.
All you need to know is that when you are ready, you will journey here. Then we will open the Gate, and free the vampyr from Earth
.

Me? How?

In time, I will show you. You have already taken the first steps
.

But, I'm not—

Oliver…. This is your destiny. You are the only one who can do this. And you must. Let no one tell you otherwise
.

How—

I will visit you again soon. Until then, all you need to know is ahead of you now
.

Oliver looked ahead. He was weaving through a maze of canyons, their red walls rising precipitously all around him. Now something incredibly bright shone in the far distance. Its light was golden, and silver, and rose, and pure white.

Oliver shot free of the canyon. Vast plains of red rock spread into the distance. He saw a single black road snaking along beneath him. To either side, the horizon seemed infinitely far, and overhead, the jeweled sky was more brilliant than ever.

But that light ahead—even though it nearly blinded him to look at it, that was all he wanted to do. Just stare into it, and he did.

Vaguely, he noticed a man standing far below on the road as he raced overhead, toward the light with its indescribable color…and more than that…this light felt alive. He almost felt like he
knew
it…like if he just stared long enough, he could see the face of it, of the Gate—

Oliver
, the Gate said in his mind. Its voice seemed familiar, too.
See me clearly
. Oliver squinted, trying, and almost thought he could make out a shape in the overwhelming light—

Then he was past it. He tried to crane his neck to look behind him, but he was moving too quickly. The red land was disappearing below him. Space was returning…worlds pushing aside again, rushing faster. Still, the light of the Gate burned in Oliver's eyes, a leftover brightness that he didn't want to lose.

The light lingered. Slowly, Oliver felt himself returning to his body, to reality. As he did, part of an ancient lullaby ran through his mind…

See the sun or the stake you must
,

Run right home or turn to dust
.

His mother, Phlox—
not my mother!
—used to sing that to him as she tucked him in at night. Oliver felt a deep ache. Phlox had a beautiful alto's voice, having trained for fifty years in Vienna. She would sing and smooth Oliver's soil just so, and what was that memory now? Was it real, or a lie? It seemed so simple, and maybe that was why he'd thought of it. Things weren't simple anymore—maybe they never would be again.

Oliver felt his arms and legs, and now something hard against his back. Floor. He blinked hard, and the brightness faded and started to separate, into squares, with dark lines.

It was a tall window. The light coming through it was not that wonderful light from the Gate. It was the soft orange of streetlights. Oliver sat up to find himself in his classroom, upstairs. He was sitting between the rows of desks. He rubbed at his head, then at his jaw. Everything felt sore.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was pretending to attack Dean and getting ready to jump at Randall. Had he? He wasn't sure, because then there was that weird flash of turquoise, and then the red world, Nexia, the voice of Illisius, and the brilliant Gate. Had that been a dream? No, a vision.

Oliver, see me clearly
, the Gate had said, it's voice so strangely familiar…

Something creaked behind him. Oliver cocked his head and heard footsteps slowly entering the room. He turned slowly, but he already knew it was Emalie. She was moving behind him, her back against the wall, passing in and out of the distorted rectangles of streetlight. The sleeve of her sweater was torn, and her hair was a mess around her face. She glanced at him, and Oliver saw her red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face, before she looked away, almost like—
Like she's scared of me
.

“Emalie,” Oliver began.

She stopped and slid down the wall, sitting and hugging her knees. She started to cry quietly.

Oliver felt a sinking feeling inside, but he wasn't sure why. Something was very wrong, though. “What happened?” he asked. She didn't answer. “What am I doing up here?” He twisted around and started to get to his feet.

“Stop.” Emalie looked up, and her gaze was awful. She held out her arms, shaking. Clutched in both hands was her wooden stake.

Oliver froze, staring at the stake. Why did she have that with her at school? And how many other times had she had it along that Oliver hadn't known about? “What are you doing with that thing?”

“Stop it,” Emalie said darkly. “Stop talking like a human. Stop looking at me like a human. You're
not
human.”

The sinking feeling inside Oliver was getting worse. “What happened? I don't—”

But Emalie's face crumbled and she started to cry, silently, again.

Oliver stood up. He listened, but the school was silent. Where were Bane and his friends? The other students?

Now a faint sound reached his ears from outside, wailing, growing louder. Sirens. Oliver turned back to Emalie, as something occurred to him.

“Emalie,” he said quietly, not wanting to ask, “Where's Dean?”

Emalie's face twisted further, and she sobbed.

“Oh, no,” he mumbled aloud. Oliver started to shake, squeezing his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. “Bane…Emalie, I'm sorry, he…”

“NO!” she shouted at him, pushing back up the wall and waving the stake at him. “You aren't sorry! Monsters can't be sorry!”

“N…no,” Oliver stammered. “I know, but Bane and I are different. I would never hurt anyone. He—”

“Stop it!” Emalie yelled.

“Stop what?” Oliver asked desperately.

Emalie seemed to be fighting the words, like she didn't want to say them. Oliver didn't want her to either. But then she did.

“You killed Dean!” She screamed, waving the stake at him. “You killed Dean!”

Oliver was stunned. “I— Wait…” It couldn't be true. “No, I didn't! I—”

“Stop trying to lie, Oliver! I saw you do it!”

“What?!” Oliver felt like the world was spinning around him. He was beginning to wonder if this was still a dream, or maybe another portal. He hoped it was, and yet the awful swirling pit that was forming in his stomach knew better.

This was real, terribly real.

“You jumped on him, and he screamed,” Emalie sobbed. “And you bit him in the neck and you just kept biting and he was shouting for help and I couldn't get to him, I—” Emalie shuddered. “And then he stopped shouting. He stopped moving…and you jumped up and ran out of the room!” Emalie swallowed a sob. “Then your friends let us go. But I didn't leave. I couldn't.”

There were more sirens now. They were getting louder, closer. Oliver could hear voices outside. People were coming. What was Emalie talking about? How could he have done such a thing? There was no way—

“Emalie,” he said desperately, “I don't remember anything after I jumped. But I couldn't have! I was going to try to get us out of there. It must have been Bane, he probably—”

“Look at you!” she shouted.

“What?”

“Look at your face!” Emalie shook her head. “Oh, that's right, you can't. Because you're a monster!”

Oliver reached to his face with shaking fingers. He touched his cheek, by his mouth, and came away with flakes of—blood.

No. No! He couldn't have done it. Why didn't he remember what had happened? “Emalie, I didn't…I wasn't even there! I had this vision, but still— I…I couldn't—” Without thinking, he took a step toward her.

“Stop! If you come closer I'll stake you, Oliver, I swear.” Her hands shook, the stake wavering back and forth.

The sirens were joined by roaring engines circling into the parking lot. Shoes slapped on stairs, and now the doors to the school were bursting open.

“In here!” a woman's voice—the choral teacher—shouted.

Emalie started sliding back toward the door.

“Emalie, please,” Oliver begged. “You have to believe me—”

“How could you?” She started to cry again. “How could you, Oliver?” Then she dropped the stake and ran out.

Oliver watched the stake rolling on the floor.
Maybe I should pick it up, he thought. Maybe I should just—

But now he heard boots thundering up the stairs. “She said he's up here!”

Oliver bolted for the door, then turned and staggered down the hall. Distantly, he heard more commotion downstairs: parents, students, paramedics. He wanted so badly,
needed
to get back down there. How could he have killed Dean? There was no way. It was just impossible. There had to be another explanation—but what? An enchantment of some kind? A trick? Yet he couldn't help hearing Emalie's voice:
How could you?
And now he'd lost her forever.

He reached a janitor's closet and slid inside, then spun to peer out the cracked door. Two police officers rushed across the hallway into the classroom where he'd just been. Oliver heard more crying from downstairs.

He stood frozen, not knowing what else to do. The officers emerged and started moving up the hall toward him. They split up to check the next two classrooms.

Oliver ducked back into the closet, squeezing between two supply shelves. On the back wall was a small metal door: a trash chute. Oliver pulled it open and slid inside. He dropped down into darkness, all the way to the basement, where he landed in a Dumpster. From there, he escaped into the sewers, through the secret door that the vampires used in the bright months of the year.

Eventually, he stopped in an abandoned side tunnel and just sat, for how many hours he didn't know. He couldn't believe what he'd done. And yet, he felt
sure
that he hadn't killed Dean, despite what Emalie had said. It just wasn't possible.
But I'm a vampire
, he reminded himself bitterly. A monster, as Emalie had put it. So wasn't it possible? Maybe that vision, from Illisius, had put him in some kind of trance. No, there had to be something else.

Bane had that staff. There was that blue light. What had Bane done?
Or was it really me?

Hours went by. Oliver just sat, not knowing what to do to next. Where could he even go? Yet there was really only one place left for him, and so he got up and trudged off.

Chapter 15

Longest Night

OLIVER CLOSED THE DOOR
and paused at the base of the stairs. He listened: The house was silent. Still, he walked as quietly as he could down the hall to the bathroom. He hunched over the wide stone sink in the center of the room and cleaned his face. Then he headed upstairs. The kitchen was still. Everyone was probably out looking for him.

What to do now? But Oliver knew his plan, there was no point second-guessing it. He was going to sit down in the living room, play some videogames, and wait. His parents would return, and whatever was going to happen would happen. Whatever punishment he received was going to be nothing compared to the way he felt inside. He was a vampire who needed to be fixed.

And one with a destiny
, he reminded himself. All the mystery and lies, the force treatments, even those strange looks he'd gotten in the underground: it all made sense now. There was a reason he was different. He had been chosen, specially created even, to open a Gate in a place called Nexia. That demon, Illisius, had said he was the only one who could do this. But what exactly was this Gate? And how many people knew about his destiny? His parents, Half-Light…who else? Did all the adult vampires know? And the biggest question of all: why wouldn't his parents keep all this a secret from him? Why had they lied to him?