The Vampire's Photograph (18 page)

He'd decided that, for now, he would keep quiet about his vision of Illisius, until he could find out more. But he had no idea how he was going to do that alone.

Oliver grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and walked into the dark living room. He headed straight toward the TV.

Suddenly, the lights flicked on.

“SURPRISE!” Oliver whipped around to find Phlox, Sebastian, his aunt Elanor and uncle David, his cousins Nina and Emmett, and even Bane, all sitting around the living room, looking at him—

And smiling. Oliver had no idea what to think.

“Well, Oliver,” Sebastian said, standing and clapping him on the back. “Charles told us everything. We were pretty worried before, but, well, now I guess congratulations are in order, aren't they?”

“We're so relieved!” Phlox said, joining them and giving Oliver a big hug. She whispered in his ear, “We just wish you'd let us in on your big secret.”

“What?” Oliver asked blankly.

Sebastian smiled again, and Oliver thought he looked more relaxed, more relieved than he'd looked in a long time. “We didn't know what to think when you started befriending those humans, but then Charles explained that it was all part of your clever plan to get them to trust you, so that you could take your first human bite.”

“He's a prodigy!” Uncle David called from the couch.

“In front of a crowd, no less,” gushed Aunt Elanor, “and the cousin of the girl! That's practically diabolical!”

Oliver wanted to run from the room.

“I'm just glad I was there to see it, bro,” Bane added, slouched comfortably in a chair. Oliver turned, and Bane offered him a sly wink, as if they'd been coconspirators.

Oliver wanted to throw out his hands and scream,
Stop!
He wanted to explain what had really happened—but now he was being led to an open chair beside the family's Longest Night tree. One of the tiny, leathery lizards nestled in its silver cage ornament hissed approvingly at him.

“And I am glad this is all behind us,” said Phlox, glancing at Oliver. He thought he caught a warning in her voice, but she turned to the rest of the family with a smile.

And just like that, the Nocturnes' celebration of the Longest Night went on, as if everything was normal. Oliver sat there, numb, watching everyone: his family. He didn't really believe that his parents actually thought everything was all right, with all they'd kept from him before. But he could tell that they were trying really hard. Which meant that, once again, Oliver was alone with his problems. So he opened gifts when they did, and smiled at Uncle David's stories, and all the while felt like he was watching someone else's world from inside his head.

He understood now that he had Bane to thank for this. Bane had, in his own twisted way, saved Oliver, as far as his parents and the vampire world were concerned. By setting him up to kill Dean, he'd created an excuse for all of Oliver's weird behavior over the last few months, one that allowed Phlox and Sebastian, and probably Dr. Vincent and everyone else, to feel like they understood what Oliver had been up to, and to actually be proud of him. Really, it was a pretty amazing feat.

“Aren't you going to thank me?” Bane said later that night, when they ran into each other alone in the kitchen.

Oliver glared at him.

“Not that I expected all
this
,” Bane went on sulkily, filling his goblet. “
I
didn't get a surprise party for my first kill.”

“How did you do it?” Oliver hissed.

Bane looked up and smiled again. “Me?” he said like he was shocked. “All I did was put you in the right place. Then it was
you
, bro. All you.”

“What about that staff? Was it enchanted? What did you—”

Bane's smile faded. “Hey, listen: You're the big hero now.” He reached over and patted Oliver on the back, only a little too hard. “So don't screw it up, already.” Bane scowled and walked out.

Oliver wanted to shout after him:
I didn't kill Dean!
He wanted to shout it loud enough for the whole party to hear. He still felt sure that he hadn't, and yet, as far as his family was concerned, not only had he killed Dean, but that was something to be celebrated.
Celebrated by my vampire family
, he thought, and was reminded once again of his human parents. Yet thinking of them was like thinking of Emalie: What good did it do? They were gone. He wasn't human like them. He was a vampire, whether he liked it or not.

And yet, he kept sifting through ideas of how to prove to Emalie that he hadn't killed Dean, how to get her back, and how to find out more about his human parents. For now, though, there was nothing else to be done but to smile and play along with the festivities.

Soon, everyone moved to the dining room for a feast. After that, Oliver played videogames with his cousins and may have forgotten about Emalie and Dean for a second or two while he did so…but much later that morning, when he finally crawled into his coffin for the first time in days, they stormed back into his thoughts, and he missed them terribly, and there was certainly no getting to sleep.

Three days later was the human festival of Christmas. A day before that, a collection of humans, dressed all in black, gathered on a drizzling morning beneath leafless trees, to bury a loved one that they had lost. Human lives were short, sometimes far too short. A vampire, who counted existences in centuries, could never understand how it might feel to have a life pass so quickly. And even when one of their kind turned to dust too soon, a vampire had no idea of how a heart could ache. It just wasn't possible. Yet in the shadow of a moldy mausoleum just up the hill from this funeral scene, there was one vampire, watching in secret, who wanted more than anything to understand.

When the ceremony was over, Oliver watched the line of mourners heading to their cars. He watched Emalie, her head down, and yet wearing a bright knit hat against the chilling rain, a splotch of color that made her seem like the only thing in color, in a drab gray world. Maybe Oliver couldn't understand how short a human life could be, but he found that he could understand very well how long his existence was going to be without his friend.

Oliver returned home that evening, his parents thinking he'd spent the day sleeping over at Seth's. Lies like that were already easier, beneath this new glow of vampire pride that surrounded him: Oliver, the devious prodigy child. Nobody wanted to talk about those anxious weeks when Oliver had been acting strangely. Nobody even asked if he'd been sleeping better. Maybe they assumed he was. But he wasn't. Really, for Oliver, it was like he was right back where he started, only worse.

He shuffled through the kitchen, past Phlox. “Hi, Oliver.”

Oliver was lost in thought and forgot to reply.

“Hey,” Phlox said.

“Yeah?” Oliver's back was still to her.

“Oh,” Phlox said. “I was just wondering how your sleepover was.”

Oliver nodded, still facing away. “It was fine.”

“And everything's all right?” she asked. “You look a little down.”

“I'm fine.” He almost started walking, then remembered to add, “Mom.”

“I like Seth,” said Phlox. “He seems like a good friend. Maybe you'd like to have him over for your birthday party this weekend?”

Oliver shrugged. He'd actually forgotten all about his birthday. And now that he remembered it, he realized that it had new meaning. His birthday was the day he was born to Phlox and Sebastian, but it was also the day that he and his human parents had died. It made sense to him now that this was why he'd always been anxious at this time of year. Some part of him had always felt the echo of that awful night. “All right,” he said blankly, and started to leave the room.

“Honey…” Oliver looked back to find Phlox gazing at him lovingly. “You're probably still feeling a little weird after the other night.”

Oliver shrugged. “Guess.”

“Well, don't worry. The first bite can be hard, but you'll feel better than ever as time goes by.”

“Okay.” Oliver turned again.

“You're growing up fast,” Phlox added, her voice getting scratchy.

“Mmm.”

“Just remember, if you ever want to talk about anything, we're here, okay?”

“All right,” Oliver mumbled.

“Because no matter what,” added Phlox, “we love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” Oliver answered, and as he left the room, he wondered if he'd been referring to someone else entirely.

School had gone on break for the week after Longest Night. When Oliver walked in on the first day back, he didn't know what to expect.

“There he is!” A voice shouted the moment he stepped into the room. With a rush of air, Theo landed in front of him. He stood tall in front of Oliver, but strangely, Brent and Maggots stayed on the wall.

“What?” Oliver muttered. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Suzyn and the other girls looking their way. Once again, with Oliver's arrival, conversation in the classroom had slowed to a halt.

Theo's arms shot forward, shoving Oliver—but only lightly. “Why didn't you tell us, you freak?”

Oliver shrugged weakly. “What are you talking about?”

“With the humans,” Theo went on, “why didn't you let us in on it?”

“Oh.” Oliver nodded. He'd gotten used to the way things had changed at home, but he hadn't expected it here as well. Everyone in his family was treating him like he was someone to be proud of. It wasn't just that they thought his problems were over. They acted like he was special, like he'd become some kind of celebrity.

And now, as he finally looked up, Oliver saw it in Theo's eyes, too. The contempt was gone. Theo almost looked, afraid? That didn't seem possible, and yet that's what Oliver sensed from him right now. So Oliver threw back his shoulders. “Well, why would I tell you guys? You might have given it away.”

Theo smirked, but again, there was some uncertainty to it. “Well, it's a good thing we were there in the Underground, huh? We really helped you out by exposing the humans, so you could make your big escape, the one everyone in town is talking about.”

Oliver shrugged. The idea that everyone in town was talking about it was news to him, but he played along. “Sure.”

Theo kept smiling, but now he raised his voice so everyone could clearly hear. “So I guess we were a pretty important part of your plan, then?”

Oliver almost laughed out loud. And he realized that his chance to get Theo back for so many moments of torment had arrived. Everyone in class was listening, and, unbelievably, Oliver had the power. He could crush Theo right here, right now. But instead, he said, “Thanks,” flatly, and stepped past Theo.

He felt eyes on him as he slid into his desk, and heard Theo jump back up to the wall. “I knew it,” he said to Brent and Maggots, but loudly enough for the girls to hear, too: “If it hadn't been for us, he wouldn't be the big story he is.”

Oliver slumped in his seat.

“Hey, Oliver,” Seth said, looking up from his cards.

“Hey.”

“Thanks again for having me at your party,” he said a little too eagerly.

While Oliver had to admit that life was easier living with this newest lie, the one where he was a vampire to be respected and maybe even feared, one who had displayed treachery that had even fooled his own family, in order to make his first human bite—

It did nothing for Oliver on the inside. It was like he'd been handed a cruel joke of a consolation prize for losing what mattered to him most.
You aren't sorry!
Emalie's words echoed in his mind.
Monsters can't be sorry!

Yet he was. Not that she would ever believe him. Not until he found a way to prove to her that he hadn't killed Dean.

Mr. VanWick swept in, and the night's lessons began. Oliver leaned on his desk, half-listening as they finished the chapter on the Aztecs and moved on to the cannibal tribes of the South Pacific. Eventually, he slid back in his seat.

As he did, his knee brushed something underneath his desk. It crinkled. Oliver sat up. Looking around to make sure no one had heard, he slipped his hand along the underside of his desk. There, wedged between the desktop and the metal legs, Oliver found a tightly folded paper. He removed it, opening it slowly beneath the desk. Then, as Mr. VanWick turned toward the blackboard, he slid it onto his textbook.

It was a print out of a newspaper article. The headline read:

CHRISTMAS TRAGEDY:

Mother and Father Slain, Child Missing

There was a grainy black-and-white photo beneath the headline, of police officers milling around the Christmas tree—the one Oliver remembered from the portal vision. He glanced at the date above the headline: sixty-four years ago. The article began beneath the photo:

SEATTLE—DEC. 29— A young family was attacked in cold blood last night. The mother and father, Mr. Howard Bailey and wife, Lindsey, were found dead beneath the city Christmas tree. The whereabouts of their infant son, Nathan, remain unknown, but police have issued an all points bulletin.

(Continued on p. A4)

Oliver quickly folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. His anxiety had returned in a rush.

He knew their names, and his own.

But Oliver also knew, from the scent of the paper, that Emalie knew as well. She had researched the portal vision, left this message for him—which meant there was still a chance that he'd see her again. Still a chance that she might forgive him, and that she could help him find out more about who he was, and who he was meant to be.

BONUS / Interlude

Amethyst and Jade
Emalie's Account: Part One

These entries originally appeared on Emalie's blog in

January, between the events of Book One and Book Two