Eleventh Grade Burns

  Aidan. Why did that name seem so familiar to Vlad?

  Pursing his lips, Vlad said, “I won’t let you feed from me.”

  “The trouble is that I find your blood irresistible. I’m afraid you will give me your blood or I will be forced to take it from you. I cannot stop this hunger, Vlad.” His eyes dropped to Vlad’s throat, causing Vlad to gulp. Dorian’s chilling words rang out into the night. “I can only barely control it.”

  Vlad instinctively took two steps back, but Dorian did not follow. He wondered if the distance would help Dorian control his thirst.

  Dorian smiled. “Unlikely, but it’s good of you to try.”

  “You said you know where the prophecy is.”

  “That I do. In fact,” he said with an air of burden, “I possess it.”

  Vlad suppressed a gasp. He eyed Dorian for a moment, wondering if it were possible that Dorian was trying to trick him.

  Dorian put his palms up, shaking his head. “No tricks. I swear.”

  He set his jaw, eyeing the unassuming vampire with distrust. “What do you want from me?”

  Dorian wet his lips, as if the thought of Vlad’s blood was making him parched. When he spoke, his voice sounded gruff. “Why ask questions to which you already know the answers?”

  Ignoring his quip, Vlad hurried to stay on subject, to keep Dorian distracted from his veins. “Can I see it?”

  Dorian paused for a moment, that hungry light leaving his eyes. It didn’t look as if he was considering Vlad’s request, but rather pondering whether or not such a simple request was actually possible. After several seconds, he said, “No. You cannot.”

  Vlad ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Then, what exactly was the point in telling me you have the prophecy if you weren’t planning to share it?”

  Dorian shook his head. “I never said that.”

  Vlad raised an eyebrow. He thought for sure Dorian had implied just that, but okay. “Then at least tell me where it is.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d consider a trade?” Dorian grinned. In any other light, it might have seemed charming.

  “No trade.”

  “I am torn, my young friend. Torn between duty and an insatiable appetite.” Dorian glanced at Vlad’s neck and the bizarre combination of horror and hunger flooded his expression. “I’m afraid my appetite seems to be winning, and my patience is waning. Please don’t make me force you. I may not be able to stop this time.”

  Vlad shook his head slowly, setting his jaw. Clearly, this was all some kind of sick game for Dorian, some cruel way of getting what he really wanted. He probably had no idea where the prophecy was. “I resisted you once. I’ll do it again.”

  “You give me no choice.” Dorian lunged forward with a speed and ferocity that Vlad had never before encountered. In a panic, Vlad did all that he knew to do, he shoved his way into Dorian’s mind.

  It didn’t stop Dorian, but it did make him hesitate long enough for Vlad to book it out of there. To his relief, and immense surprise, Dorian did not follow.

  17

  HALLOWEEN

  ARE YOU GONNA BE MAD IF I GO?”

  Vlad shook his head. Henry was already dressed as a zombie, with chunks of rotting flesh hanging off of his face. Where else could he go dressed like that, but Matthew’s annual Halloween party? “Nah, I won’t get mad. You go ahead. I just don’t feel like watching Joss and Meredith’s first official date unfold before my eyes, y’know?”

  Henry nodded, but looked pretty bummed out. Vlad wondered if he was thinking about how he’d ditched Vlad for last year’s party. “So are you just staying in tonight?”

  Vlad shrugged with one shoulder. He knew his answer wouldn’t make Henry the happiest guy in the world, but that was just how things were. “October’s picking me up. We’re going to The Crypt for a while. They’re having a vampire bash.”

  Henry grew quiet, and Vlad couldn’t help but wonder if Henry thought he was choosing the goths over him. That would never happen. Henry wasn’t just his drudge, he was his best friend. But still, he worried Henry might think so. After a moment, Henry nodded. “Fitting. Bet you win for best costume.”

  “I’m not dressing up.”

  A smile cracked Henry’s expression. “Still.”

  Vlad knew it couldn’t have been easy to be around him since he broke it off with Meredith. He’d been grouchy and withdrawn, for sure. Henry deserved better from his best friend, but Vlad just couldn’t face Joss and Meredith tonight. He shifted in his seat on the couch and silently vowed to make his absence from the party up to Henry. “Where’s Melissa?”

  “We’re over. I dumped her on my way here.” Henry shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

  Vlad mulled this over for a moment before he said, “Tell me you didn’t break up with her in a text.”

  “Yeah, why?” Henry shrugged again, casually though the sting of the fresh breakup lurked in his eyes.

  “Dude, that’s brutal.”

  “But necessary. If you dump them in person either they get all weepy or mad. Either way, it’s a bad situation. And I couldn’t risk smearing my face paint with tears ... or blood, whichever happened to be flying around.” Henry smacked Vlad playfully on the back with his rotting, pus-oozing hand. “Anyway, I’d better bolt.”

  “See ya, man.”

  “Have fun sucking face with Snow.”

  Vlad rolled his eyes. There was no use arguing. No matter what he said, Henry and October were convinced that he and Snow were making out in the alley behind The Crypt. But it wasn’t her face that he was looking forward to sucking—it was her blood. Though it was something he still wasn’t really comfortable admitting to.

  The phone rang, so Vlad snapped it up in his hand. “Hello?”

  Silence on the other end, and then, “Hi, Vlad. It’s Meredith.”

  Vlad’s stomach shriveled into a tiny, hard ball.

  “I know you’re wondering why I’m calling, so I’ll just get right to it. Any minute now, Joss is going to show up at my door to take me to Matthew’s party.”

  Great. Rub it in. That’s helpful. The hard ball that had been his stomach quivered a little inside of him.

  “So the reason I’m calling is to ask you ... to ask you if there’s any reason that I shouldn’t go with Joss tonight.”

  A thousand reasons raced through Vlad’s mind, but two remained at the top of the list: 1) Joss was a killer, and 2) Vlad still had feelings for her. But Vlad spoke neither aloud. Instead, he said in a raspy voice, “Nothing comes to mind.”

  She was quiet for a long time before uttering “Okay” and hanging up on her end.

  Vlad stared at the phone in his hand for a full minute, kicking himself for not saying what he’d really wanted to—that Joss was a manipulative jerk and she should stay far, far away from him at all costs—before returning the phone to its cradle. He couldn’t tell her that, because what came next? Ditch Matthew’s party and come hang out with me at The Crypt tonight? I can introduce you to Snow, who happens to be my enormously hot drudge? No way. Not happening.

  Besides, Meredith was safer not being around him. She was safer with Joss.

  October pulled up and honked her horn, and suddenly it felt like everyone in the world but Vlad had their own car. Shouting a quick goodbye to Nelly, Vlad bolted out the door. He piled into the back with Sprat and Andrew, and with a jerk, October managed to get the car into gear and drove them all into Stokerton, music blaring on the radio, dashboard lights making Kristoff’s silver hair glow slightly blue. By the time they pulled up in front of The Crypt, Vlad was feeling much better about missing out on Matthew’s party. Once they stepped inside and descended into the club, he’d forgotten that Matthew was even holding a party.

  The entire room was decorated in red and black, with hundreds of tiny, fuzzy bats hanging from the ceiling. The normally empty picture frames on the wall held artwork depicting famous vampires: Dracula, Count Chocula, the Count from Sesame Street, and more. And everyone—ev
eryone but Vlad, that is—was dressed as stereotypical vampires. Some wore capes, some dressed in Victorian finery, but every single one of them had a pair of fangs. Vlad smiled and let his own fangs slip from their hiding place behind his gums. No wonder he loved it here.

  Standing by the bar was Snow, dressed in a slinky black dress, with a small silver bat hanging from a chain around her pale neck—pater than usual, which Vlad attributed to rice powder. Her black hair was pinned up, with several loose curls hanging down, brushing lightly against her skin. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

  October tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Tell her, Vlad. If you’re not interested, tell her tonight ... or I will.”

  After debating just what to say for several minutes, Vlad walked over to Snow and said, “Having fun?”

  Snow could barely contain a grin. “Good music, my favorite night of the year, room full of vampires ... I’m having a blast.”

  “Can we talk?” Vlad swallowed a lump in his throat. “Outside?”

  Snow nodded, taking Vlad’s hand in hers, leading him to the back door. When she touched him, he secretly reveled in her warmth. He could get used to this feeling, Snow’s skin against his. But didn’t Snow deserve better than a beast who only wanted her for what she could give him? That wasn’t a relationship. That was a tragedy waiting to happen. He slipped his hand from hers and avoided her questioning glance.

  No. He couldn’t get used to it, to any of it. He was getting too close to Snow for her own good.

  As they passed October, she handed Snow her jacket and shot Vlad a look that said she meant business. It turned out while guys would not only stand by and watch as their friend volunteered to help out the lion tamer, and hand him a steak as he was entering the cage, girls were fiercely protective of their friends. Vlad couldn’t ever imagine threatening a girl’s life for making out with Henry. Besides, that would be a lot of girls, and Vlad wasn’t sure he could even remember all their names, let alone threaten them with bodily harm for making Henry grin like an idiot. As far as he was concerned, Henry could make out with anybody he wanted. Except for Meredith. And maybe Snow.

  They stepped outside and Vlad’s fangs throbbed within his mouth, as if they’d become accustomed to feeding in the cold. It wasn’t why he’d come here, but his body, that monster that lurked within him, known only as thirst, reacted immediately.

  She smiled at Vlad once the door closed, sealing them off from the club. “You’ve been really hungry lately.”

  “It’s not that. I mean, it is, but we need to talk.” His eyes found her neck and that delicious blue vein. At once he was seized by hunger, all sense and reason gone, lost in his blood-thirst. “Maybe it’s better if I feed first.”

  “Why? Worried whatever you have to say to me will make feeding awkward?”

  Vlad blinked, tearing his gaze away from her neck. It would make it easier to focus on the conversation at hand. A little, anyway. Her tone sounded hurt, as if she already knew what he was going to say, that they should just be friends, that the feeding sessions didn’t mean he had any real feelings for her. Her cheeks flushed, and Vlad couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or embarrassment.

  “Snow . . . we’re friends, right? I mean, you’re my drudge, but that’s it, right? Just my drudge? Just my friend? You don’t think we’re . . .” But the look in her eyes said it all—she didn’t view him as just a friend. October was right. Snow had a crush on him. A big-time crush. And what’s worse, Vlad wasn’t entirely sure she was the only one with attachment issues.

  She shrugged, trying to keep it casual, but he could tell she was hurting ... and lying through her teeth. “Of course. Just friends. Why?”

  Vlad wet his lips, his hunger drowned out by his concern for Snow’s feelings. Quietly, he brushed a stray curl from her cheek and said, “Do you like me as more than a friend? Tell the truth.”

  She glared at him then and held it for a long time, as if she didn’t like feeling weak or vulnerable. Just as Vlad was about to ask again, she said, “Yes. I like you. As more than a friend. But you don’t feel the same way, so why does it matter?”

  The last thing he wanted to do was to placate her, to give her false hope, but he didn’t want to lie either. The truth was, he really enjoyed their stolen moments together. But those moments were always tainted by guilt—guilt for feeding on her, guilt for spending intimately close time together with a girl that was not Meredith.

  Always Meredith. She was haunting him in ways he’d never realized she would.

  A strange battle was going on inside of him, between his vampire side and his human side. Part of him wanted to cease his prattle and sink his fangs deep into Snow’s vein. Part of him retched at the thought. She was a person, after all. She was his friend. And since when did the vampire side of him start making sense? He tore his gaze from her neck and took a deep breath, trying to block out the scent of her blood on the air. “Snow, you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. You’re funny, smart, and really cool to hang out with. But—”

  “But?”

  Vlad gulped. It was his turn to feel vulnerable. “There’s . . . this girl.”

  “There usually is. What’s her name?” Her tone grew bitter, jealous. It kind of amused Vlad a little. A girl, as sweet and caring as Snow, jealous over a guy like Vlad? That was one for the record books.

  He breathed out her name in a whisper, as if uttering its purity here in the place where he fed in secrecy were a sin. “Meredith.”

  “Do you love her?”

  Vlad barely let the question slip from her mouth before he answered. “Yes.”

  Snow blinked, looking a little surprised at Vlad’s quick reply. “Does she love you?”

  Vlad pictured Meredith in his mind and recalled the way her smile lifted his spirits, the way her very presence made his heart expand. He nodded slowly. “I think so. I mean, maybe. I think she did once, and there’s always the hope that she will again someday.”

  Snow’s eyes dropped to the ground. Her shoulders sagged some. She looked defeated. All Vlad wanted to do was to make her eyes light up again. Her voice was calm, but hushed. “Does she know that you’re a vampire?”

  He shook his head. “No. I haven’t told her. I just don’t know if she could handle it.”

  They stood there, so close, for so long that it seemed that time had actually disappeared and the world had completely forgotten them.

  “Maybe you need to find that out, Vlad. If you love her, you’ve got to give her a chance to know you. And if she loves you, she’ll love everything about you.” Snow’s voice was soft, but full of meaning. She took a breath and whispered, “The way I do.”

  Then she leaned forward and her lips found Vlad’s. This time, he welcomed it. This time, he kissed back with abandon. Her kiss was sweet, her lips tasted like peppermint lip balm, and for the first time in a long while, Vlad didn’t once think about Meredith or Joss or Otis’s impending trial. He didn’t think about D’Ablo or Dorian or anything else.

  He only thought of the pretty girl named Snow and her peppermint kisses.

  18

  A BAD DAY

  VLAD TURNED THE CORNER ONTO LUGOSI TRAIL with heavy steps. It wasn’t that he wasn’t looking forward to his training session with Vikas—in fact, he’d been enjoying them immensely over the past few weeks—but school had been particularly grueling today. All he was really in the mood to do was go home, camp out in front of the TV, and maybe kill a few dozen people on Vampires Attack!, the Xbox 360 game Henry had bought him for his birthday last year. But that, much to Vlad’s chagrin, wasn’t going to happen.

  As he crossed the street, he took a glance around, wondering to himself what exactly it was that had sent Eddie off his trail recently. It was nice not being followed home every day, but Vlad didn’t trust why Eddie had stopped. Maybe Joss had warned him about the unpredictable temperament of vampires. Or maybe Eddie hadn’t really, truly believed that Vlad was a bloodsucking monster until Joss
confirmed his theory. Or maybe he had just run out of clean pants. Either way, it was kind of nice to be alone again, though he couldn’t help but wonder if he truly was alone or if Joss was his new constant shadow.

  But then, it was only a matter of time before Eddie would return to his old habits. After all, even for vampires, there was no stopping the media.

  Stealing around to the back of the house, Vlad pulled open the door and stepped inside. Immediately, something felt very wrong.

  “Vikas? You home?” He reached out with his blood, the way that Otis had taught him last year, and felt his teacher’s presence upstairs. Something felt ... wrong. Vikas’s blood felt off, somehow. Different. As he climbed the steps, his pace hurried, and with worry, he opened the door to the guest bedroom.

  Vikas was lying on the bed. The dark circles under his eyes and his sunken cheeks made his face look like a skull. He was always pale, but now he looked like a sickening combination of gray and green. His eyes were closed, and if Vlad didn’t know any better he would have thought that Vikas might be dead.

  Tristian was standing over him, dabbing his forehead with a cool, moist cloth. Vlad’s face darkened to see his actions. They only confirmed his fears that Vikas must be terribly ill. Vlad stepped inside the room, careful to keep his footfalls hushed. He exchanged glances with Tristian, who looked so worried that it made Vlad’s heart skip a beat. “What happened?”

  Tristian parted his lips to speak, but Vikas opened his eyes and spoke in a gruff, stubborn voice. “I’m fine, Mahlyenki Dyavol. Just a bit under the weather.”

  Ignoring Vikas’s grumblings, Vlad sat on the side of the bed and met Tristian’s gaze.

  In a hushed, timid voice, Tristian said, “I brought him a glass of bloodwine from the open bottle on the counter, like I do every afternoon. He gets peckish around three, you know.” A worried crease had taken up permanent residence on Tristian’s forehead. He looked down at his master, whose eyes were closed again. “Even if he eats a late lunch, he’s always hungry around three. So I brought him a glass. He took a sip and just ... just crumbled to the ground.”