Eleventh Grade Burns
“You’ll be surprised.”
Vlad furrowed his brow. You’ll not you’d. As if Dorian knew something he wasn’t telling Vlad.
“Less people like me than our friend D’Ablo, I’m afraid.”
“Something tells me you’re never afraid. Of anything.” In an afterthought, Vlad took a step back.
A strange smile lit up Dorian’s face and he shrugged casually, almost sheepishly.
Several seconds passed before Vlad said, “So ... what do you want?”
“I’ve come to proposition you. It is within my power to save your uncle’s life, but he is too stubborn to agree to a trade. So I implore you. Give me your blood and I will help your uncle survive his trial.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that it sounded as if he’d rehearsed his speech all the way here, as if he’d practiced it over and over again, perhaps out loud, until it sounded perfect, until his demand seemed sane and rational, everything that Dorian most certainly was not. His eyes told Vlad that he was completely serious, but his eager nod seemed almost childlike. He waited, and when Vlad failed to give him a thumbs-up on the idea, he sighed, troubled. “If I have to take your blood by force, Otis will die. I’m sorry, Vlad, but I cannot control this urge. I must have your blood, at any cost.”
Vlad’s heart rammed against his ribs. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Dorian wanted his blood, now he was left to choose between his life and Otis’s. He swallowed hard, wondering how both Dorian and D’Ablo had chosen this exact night to get on his case, and if they were somehow working together. After all, they both seemed to be after the same thing. “Why ask? Why not force me right now?”
After a moment, it hit him. Vlad took in a shaky breath. “You’re afraid you’ll fail again. I beat you before, and that scared you. Because no one beats you, do they, Dorian?”
Dorian’s mouth settled slowly into a frown, as if he were uncomfortable with the idea of anyone knowing his secrets. The irony did not escape Vlad. An all-powerful vampire, afraid of anyone finding out his deepest fears? That was one for the books. Dorian cleared his throat before speaking. “That’s not all. I ... derive pleasure from the idea that the boy who would be Pravus would bend to my will.”
Vlad’s stomach turned. “Not just hungry for blood, but power too, eh? You’re just like some spoiled kid, used to getting his way.”
Dorian grew quiet for some time, finally breaking it to whisper, “You might say that.”
Vlad shook his head. “The answer is no. You can’t have my blood. Not one drop. I’ve had enough excitement for the night, thanks.”
As Vlad turned to walk away, he felt his body stiffen. Before he knew what was happening, he turned to face Dorian again ... but not of his own free will.
Dorian nodded apologetically. “I am sorry, but you do force my hand.”
Against his will, Vlad moved closer, bending his head to the side, beckoning Dorian to drain his veins dry. Dorian’s fangs slipped from his gums, ready, eager to partake, his eyes locked on the throbbing blue vein on Vlad’s neck.
Inside Vlad’s skull, Vlad ranted, raved, screamed, but there was nothing he could do to stop this moment from happening.
To his left, there was the familiar squeak of the club door, followed by October’s voice. “What’s taking you so long?”
Without a word, Dorian released his mental grip and stepped back. Strangely, he looked almost as relieved as Vlad felt. He moved down the street, disappearing into the night, but not before his voice echoed in Vlad’s mind. “That girl just saved you. She saved us both.”
Vlad’s hands were shaking. That was close. Too close. And what had Dorian meant, saved them both? He wasn’t the one in danger of being drained here.
He turned back to October, who had a sharp eyebrow raised. “Who was that?”
Vlad rubbed absently at his neck, wondering silently what the look in Dorian’s eyes, what the words in Vlad’s mind, had meant. “Nobody. It was nobody.”
13
OUTSPOKEN ENEMIES
VLAD CHEWED A BITE of his peanut butter, jelly, and blood-capsule sandwich and swallowed, but it didn’t go down easy. He couldn’t stop watching the exchange that was happening two tables over and wishing like crazy that he had some kind of supersensitive hearing. Unfortunately, vampires were nothing at all like superheroes. So Vlad watched, trying to learn on the spot how to read lips and failing miserably.
He kept fighting back yawns, completely exhausted by his recent training sessions with Vikas, who had promised him that they would only get more difficult. Not to mention how much sleep he’d been losing since his encounter with both D’Ablo and Dorian two weeks before.
After a few more seconds of squinting at Joss’s moving lips, he almost smacked himself in the forehead, wondering how exactly a vampire momentarily forgets about that whole mind-reading thing. He laid his head on the table and closed his eyes, slipping stealthily into Joss’s head, content to linger long enough to learn what Joss and Eddie were discussing.
Joss’s head hurt. He was tense and anxious, but not uncertain in the least. He was doing the right thing ... for the good of mankind.
Vlad rolled his eyes. Whatever you gotta tell yourself to sleep through the night, Joss.
Eddie’s voice came out in a breath. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I can. I knew he was a vampire, but I had no idea you knew. Who else knows?”
A picture of Henry popped into Joss’s thoughts, but he couldn’t out his cousin, couldn’t endanger Henry’s life because he was being stupid and reckless ... and was likely under Vlad’s control. “Just us. And we have to keep it that way.”
“So what do we do? I mean, he has to be stopped. And ... I want proof to show people.”
Joss raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”
Eddie leaned forward, excitement in his tone. “No, I believe you. But I want the newspapers to believe me. I want the television programs to believe me.”
“You want to be famous for proving to the world that vampires exist?”
“Yes.”
Joss tightened his jaw, disgusted. If Eddie weren’t proving to be useful, he’d walk away from this conversation and deny it had ever taken place. But he did seem to be of use, which is why Joss had confided in him in the first place. Joss wet his lips and a lie escaped his mouth. “Give me time, and I’ll make you more famous than you have ever dreamed.”
Eddie sat back, looking more than a little pleased. He shook his head and chuckled. “I’m glad nobody’s listening to us talk. They’d think we were both crazy whack-jobs.”
Vlad pulled out of Joss’s thoughts, sat up, and chuckled. At the same time, Joss looked at him and pursed his lips. The look in his eyes said he knew Vlad had been listening, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how. Vlad smiled pleasantly and waved.
It wasn’t that he was happy about what he’d overheard, but at some point, his sanity was bound to break at the ridiculousness that was his life. Why not now?
“Why are you smiling?” October had a thin black eyebrow raised and was looking at Vlad in the way that said she was pretty sure he’d lost his mind, and she was totally cool with that.
Vlad shook his head. “The voices in my head said something funny. So what are you up to tonight?”
“Hanging at The Crypt with the guys ... and Snow.” She pursed her purple-painted lips as if her next words were delicate ones. “She likes you, you know. And I think you like her. So why aren’t you two dating?”
Deep inside Vlad’s chest, something twitched. He was pretty sure it was part of his heart—probably the part that had really liked the way it felt when Snow kissed him. He shrugged slightly. “What makes you think she likes me?”
“Because when you’re not around, you’re all she talks about. And when you are around, her eyes light up and she looks genuinely happy. I know that look in Snow’s eyes, because it’s something rare to see.” She snatched a cookie from his hand and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “You’ve met her father, Vlad. Yo
u’ve gotta know Snow’s home life is nothing to smile about. Her school life is stressed, and until you came along, our nights at The Crypt were just about the only thing Snow had to smile about.”
Vlad pulled his collar away from his neck. Was it hot in here? He glanced around nervously, desperately looking for a change in conversation.
October pointed the half-eaten cookie at him. “I know she likes you, because she’s my best friend. I don’t have to hear her say it—just like I don’t have to see you two kiss to know you’ve done it.”
With every word she said, Vlad sank down in his seat just a little bit. If she kept talking, he was going to wind up on the floor, feeling like a jerk for having let Snow kiss him.
Finally, October sighed. “So ... why aren’t you dating?”
“Because ...” Vlad tried to resist, but his eyes flicked to Meredith as she passed their table.
October shook her head. A subtle anger burned on the edges of her frown. “Oh, I see. She’s good enough to make out with, but she’s not Meredith Brookstone?”
“This has nothing to do with Meredith. I like Snow, but we’re friends. Just friends.” But even as he spoke the words, he wasn’t confident that he believed them. Admitting that to October, however, wasn’t going to help things at all.
“I swear, Vlad. I know that Henry McMillan is your best friend, but I really didn’t think that you were that much alike.”
Vlad winced at the thought of sharing Henry’s reputation. Was he that bad? Was it so obvious to the world that he was allowing his inner monster to use Snow, and treating her like less of a person than she actually was? Guilt gnawed at his insides. Eddie and Joss were right. He was an inhuman beast. He had to be stopped.
October picked up her tray in one hand and gathered her books into her free arm. “You’d better tell Snow that you’ve got her stuck firmly in the Friend Zone, Vlad. Because she’s falling hard for you, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Vlad gulped. He was pretty sure he was more afraid of October’s fury than D’Ablo’s ritual and Dorian’s cravings combined. “I will.”
Before she walked away, she leaned down and hissed into his ear, “And if you think I buy that ‘this has nothing to do with Meredith’ crap, you’re dreaming.”
Vlad laid his head back on the table. October was right. Something had to be done about Snow, and not just because she had a huge crush on Vlad. Ever since she’d kissed him, Vlad found himself lingering for hours in the alley after feeding sessions. He found himself spending more time around her, which wasn’t a bad thing. But he also couldn’t shake Meredith from his thoughts, which was completely unfair to Snow. He couldn’t date one girl knowing he still loved another. And he did love Meredith.
Didn’t he?
He liked her, cared deeply for her, couldn’t stop thinking about all the hand-holding they did, all the meaningful kisses they exchanged. He missed her. But did he love her still?
Vlad looked over at Meredith, who was giggling at something Joss said and twirling a lock of her hair around one finger.
Yes, he decided. Yes, he did still love Meredith. And probably always would.
And that meant he needed to take a step back from Snow. Maybe a lot of steps.
The rest of Vlad’s day crawled by in a clouded mist of contemplation. He barely paid attention to his teachers. And surprisingly, he didn’t think much about his feelings for Meredith. He thought about Snow, and which was more important to him, her blood or her feelings. He liked Snow and really enjoyed their long conversations about anything and everything—her rotten home life, his struggles with Elysia—but she confused him in ways that no girl ever had. They were friends. But something more than friendship was starting to burn around the edges and it scared Vlad.
He couldn’t be with Snow the way he’d been with Meredith. He still loved Meredith. And Snow ... she deserved better.
Besides, she was just his food source ... wasn’t she?
No. She was a person. A person who deserved better than a monster like Vlad. When the last bell rang, Vlad grabbed his backpack and headed out the front doors, but he didn’t get far.
Two sets of hands picked him up, one by his arms and one by his legs, and carried him around to the back of the school, to the grassy area surrounded by shrubs, where a few teachers went to smoke during lunch. It wasn’t until those hands threw him down on the ground that Vlad could confirm they belonged to Bill and Tom, the resident bullies who had been a constant thorn in Vlad’s side since before kindergarten. He wasn’t surprised in the least.
But when they wordlessly duct-taped him to the small maple tree ... that gave him cause to raise an eyebrow. He didn’t bother protesting—he’d just tap into his vampire strength and snap free once they’d gone. It was just an annoyance, a minor setback to his afternoon plans.
Eddie stepped into the clearing, and Vlad’s eyes darted to Bill and Tom. After a moment of awkward silence, Bill said, “Where’s our twenty bucks, Poe?”
Eddie held up a bill and Tom snatched it. “Man, you got ripped off. We’d have done it for free.”
The bullies guffawed and made their way back to the front of the school. Eddie’s small face wore a smirk as he crouched in front of Vlad, a superior, knowing look in his little weasel eyes. “Comfy?”
Vlad glared. The last thing he wanted to do was spend even a moment in the presence of Eddie Poe, vampire paparazzo extraordinaire. He pulled his hands forward, ready to tear through the tape that held him in place, and was hit by a wave of nausea that ripped away his strength required to break the bonds. He looked at Eddie, narrowing his eyes, and put some real effort into it, yanking at the tape, but still he couldn’t break it. Confused, he tried again, but failed. A terrible ache was settling into his stomach, and Vlad knew that if he didn’t lie down soon, he was going to throw up all over Eddie’s camera.
With a smug smile, Eddie unzipped his backpack and pulled out a string of garlic. He held it up for Vlad to see. “Does this answer any questions for you?”
Vlad shrank away as much as he could, but there was no escape. So that was why he suddenly felt so sick, that was why he was feeling so weak. He made a mental note to give Eddie a permanent wedgie the moment he escaped. “Eddie, what are you doing?”
Eddie tied the end of the string, making a loop, and despite Vlad’s struggling, placed it over Vlad’s head and around his neck.
It was the most dangerous necklace that Vlad had ever worn.
Unless the garlic got into a wound or Vlad swallowed it, he’d be fine—Otis had assured him of that. But the real danger was that Eddie knew the garlic would subdue him long enough to ... to ... to do whatever it was Eddie planned to do.
The scent of the garlic was choking him, but Vlad managed to repeat his words. “What are you doing?”
He’d meant for them to come out threatening, but they sounded more like a whimper.
Eddie fiddled with his lens, occasionally pointing his camera at Vlad and adjusting something. “I’m just making sure you stick around long enough for me to take a few pictures.”
Vlad tried to push into Eddie’s mind, but no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn’t get inside—the garlic must have weakened that too. His voice shook, but he tried to remain calm. “You should know I’m really allergic to garlic, Eddie. We’ve been going to school together since kindergarten.”
“It’s a good cover, Vlad, and not entirely a lie. Aren’t all vampires allergic to garlic?” Eddie smiled a strange, sadistic smile. He pulled a pocketknife from his back pocket and opened it, revealing a small, sharp blade. His actions were so casual that Vlad found himself frightened—frightened! Of Eddie Poe. He never saw that coming.
Despite his fears, despite his nausea, Vlad shook his head and tried hard to act cool and casual. “You still think that? Man, Eddie, you should see a shrink. Seriously. Vampires aren’t re—”
He was going to say “real,” but then Eddie drew the blade across his palm, splitting his pale ski
n open. Bright red blood blossomed from the cut, and Vlad’s eyes locked on Eddie’s self-inflicted wound. Vlad’s stomach, despite the queasiness-inducing garlic, rumbled with need.
Eddie poked at his cut with his finger, enticing it to open, to bleed freely. Blood drew a lazy line down his palm, and with prodding the line thickened. He waved his bleeding hand in front of Vlad’s face and smirked. “Not real, huh? So why do you look so hungry all of a sudden?”
Vlad forced his eyes away. He had to get a grip, or the garlic wasn’t going to be enough to keep him down. He was going to tear through Eddie Poe’s little neck and devour every drop of his blood. And even Eddie didn’t deserve that ... no matter how much Vlad wanted to do it.
Eddie snapped a few pictures of Vlad, then sat down just a few feet in front of him and said, “I can wait all day. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to show me fangs.”
The smell of Eddie’s btood—oh man, it was AB negative—filled Vlad’s nostrils. He could feel his will breaking. He was going to bite Eddie and get a taste. He had to. Eddie had practically invited him to dine. Fueled by hunger, Vlad pulled on his restraints and felt the duct tape stretch and begin to break. The garlic wasn’t enough to keep him away from the taste of the rubies hidden within Eddie’s small veins. Vlad needed it. Just a taste. Just a small taste.
A familiar voice entered the clearing. “Eddie, are you crazy? What are you doing?”
Eddie was snapping tons of pictures, but the voice was enough to distract Vlad from his momentary weakness. Barely, but enough. He looked up and saw Joss dropping his messenger bag on the ground beside Eddie. Joss looked at Vlad, tilting his head curiously. “Your eyes are purple. Why do they do that?”
Vlad blinked, collecting himself. “I ... I don’t know.”
Joss spied Eddie’s hand and clucked his tongue. “Is that what’s causing all the commotion?”
As Joss took Eddie’s hand and examined the cut, Eddie yanked it away. “It’s the only way to get proof.”
“By sacrificing yourself?”
Eddie wilted, but Joss patted him on the back. “The garlic was a good idea, but not enough, I think. Vlad isn’t like other vampires.”