The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills (10 page)

Otis nodded. “Bloodwine, please, Vladimir.”

Tomas nodded as well.

Vlad headed into the kitchen, eavesdropping as he reached for a bottle of bloodwine and struggled with the cork.

Tomas said, “What can I do to prove myself to you, my brother?”

“You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?” Otis’s tone was suddenly clipped, somewhat angry.

Tomas sighed, his tone full of regret. “Otis, when I called you my half brother that day, the day I left Elysia behind for the love of Mellina, when I implied that you were less to me than a true brother, that you were only partly my family, partly of my blood ... please know that it was out of anger and frustration. I’d wanted to make a clean break with you before running off with Mellina. I was so terrified that if I did not, you would turn on me, as you did on Vikas. I was terrified that your love of Elysia would overshadow your love of our brotherhood.”

Otis’s voice hushed then to almost a whisper. “Nothing means more to me, Tomas. How could you think such a thing?”

“You loved Vikas as well. But look at Nadya, the human who Vikas so deeply loved, and how quickly you sabotaged his life with her.” His tone wasn’t angry, wasn’t accusing in the least. Just matter of fact.

Vlad remembered his conversation with Vikas about Otis’s betrayal. Vikas had loved a human, and Otis had notified the council of his lawbreaking. It made perfect sense that Tomas had feared a repeat. He sat the cork on the counter and retrieved three goblets. As he poured them full to the brim with the spicy blood, he heard Otis admit something that he wondered if he had ever admitted to Vikas.

Otis’s voice grew gruff, like he was on the verge of tears. “I was wrong. Misguided.”

“And now?”

“Now . . . now I have Nelly.” He grew quiet for a moment, and when he continued, Vlad could almost hear the smile on his lips, see the slight blush in his cheeks. “Were to be married in the spring.”

Tomas chuckled some. “My brother? Marry a human?”

“Nelly isn’t just any human. She’s special.”

“Of that I’m well aware.”

Otis sighed, dropping his voice to a near-whisper, perhaps so that Vlad would not overhear. “The Council of Elders expects Vladimir to deliver you by the end of the year. What do you propose we do?”

Vlad picked up the glasses, sloshing bloodwine as he moved slowly back to the dining room.

Vlad’s dad was quiet for a moment, as if mulling his situation over before speaking. “We’ll do just that. But for now, let’s keep my presence quiet. Give me some time with my son before I die.”

“Tomas.” Otis paused, as if the subject were a sensitive one. It was. “You know how Em is. I’m certain she plans to kill him too, no matter if you turn yourself over or not.”

Tomas’s voice shook slightly. “I know. But I will do anything within my power to stop that from happening.”

“And I will help you.” There was a pause then, and when Otis spoke again—even though he spoke just two simple words—Vlad knew that all was well between his father and uncle. He knew that somehow, Tomas had earned Otis’s trust back, and that everything would be okay between then from now on.

Otis’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke again. “My brother.”

V
LAD’S HEAD WAS SPINNING in a million different directions, kind of like his feet had been duct taped to the side of the Gravitron ride at the carnival. He’d lain in bed for four hours straight, but sleep refused to come. Mostly because that little voice in his head refused to shut up.

It spoke of his dad’s miraculous return and Otis’s strange reaction. But mostly, it spoke of Snow.

In fact, it wouldn’t shut up about her.

Every time he rolled over, closed his eyes, or breathed, an image would cross his mind. Piecing them together, he could see her as he’d left her the last time he saw her. He’d given her a rose, bitten her forcibly, and pushed her out of his life. At the time it had felt right to release Snow as his drudge, but ever since then, Vlad was weighed down by regret. And worse yet, he couldn’t think of the right way to apologize, the right way to plead for forgiveness and tell her how he felt. Mostly because he didn’t know how he felt. And that, coupled with thoughts about his dad, was keeping him awake. So he slipped quietly, unnoticed, from the house, and walked. And thought.

His thoughts were jumbled.

Vlad sighed and whipped his head around, looking for a street sign. He’d been walking so long that he’d forgotten which direction he’d been walking in.

It was only then that he realized where he’d ended up.

He stood there for a long, silent, uncertain moment, staring at the house, questioning whether or not he should knock. With a deep breath, he forced himself up the porch steps and, before he could stop himself, he raised his fist and knocked.

No one would answer. After all, it was almost midnight now. And even if someone did answer, Vlad would have bet his life, that someone would be very large and very angry to see him.

When the sound of movement inside reached his ears, he almost bolted, but held fast, despite his fear of having his limbs ripped from his body.

He could do this. After all, he was in need of a friend.

The door opened to reveal pink fuzzy slippers—they reminded Vlad of cotton candy—and an equally pink robe. Glittery pink lip gloss covered her lips still, as if she’d just begun getting ready for bed and hadn’t quite removed her makeup just yet.

Surprise lit up Meredith’s eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but to Vlad’s relief, she wasn’t frowning or glaring either. “Hey ... Vlad. You’re out late. What’s up?”

Vlad shoved his thumbs in his front pockets, dropping his eyes back down to her cotton candy slippers. “I ... was wondering if we could talk. I mean, I could really use someone to talk to. Is that ... is that okay?”

It took him several seconds, but when he looked up, he saw Meredith was smiling. “Of course. Is the porch swing okay? More privacy out here.”

A bit taken aback by surprise, Vlad nodded. Meredith moved past him and sat on the wooden porch swing, patting the seat next to her. Vlad followed and sat down, the wood creaking beneath his body, the chains squeaking some as the swing moved. He sat there for a long time, unsure of how to begin. Meredith remained silent.

Finally, Vlad cleared his throat. “Something strange and kinda awesome has happened and I’m a little messed up about it.”

He waited to see what Meredith had to say. When her only response was silence, he figured he should probably give her a little bit more information. He also figured he should talk about his dad and not Snow. “It turns out my dad survived the house fire a few years back. He’s . . . he’s back home now.”

He looked at Meredith, at her hand finding her mouth open in shock. Then he nodded. “That’s pretty much how I reacted too. The thing is ... I thought I’d be happy to see him again. But mostly, I’m angry. And I feel really, really guilty for being so mad. I mean, he’s had it rough, what with losing my mom and then being so far away from me for so long. And then he comes back and his son is mad at him for being gone.”

Meredith’s shock had eased some. She reached over and took Vlad’s hand in hers, her voice soft and caring, like he knew it would be. Some things you could just count on. “It’s okay to be angry, y’know. I mean, he disappeared for years. You thought he was dead, and then he shows up alive? I’d be angry too, I bet, if my dad did that.”

Her hand was soft and warm, and Vlad really liked the way it felt in his.

Maybe too much.

She eyed him for a moment, a bit of sadness creeping into her eyes, as if she were thinking the same thing. Then she released his hand. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now. You must be freaking out. Has he said where he’s been all this time?”

Vlad shook his head slowly, relieved that Meredith seemed to understand, relieved that it was okay that he was mad at his father for abandoning him. “He says he’s been all over the world, kind of on the run. But he says he only stayed away to protect me from something. Something awful.”

“He must love you a lot.”

“Maybe that’s why I feel so guilty about being angry with him.”

“I’m not the smartest girl in the world, Vlad, but if I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: forgiveness is crucial. If you can’t forgive someone you’re mad at, that anger will poison you. You have to learn to let it go.” Her hand was in his once again. Soft, warm, and caring. Familiar. Right, even though it was wrong. “People have reasons for doing the things that they do, especially when they care about you. You may not always understand what they are, but if you can try to understand the person then you might see that they really care, despite what happened.”

Vlad met her eyes then. With his peripheral vision, he could see fireflies glowing softly all around the porch. A slight breeze brushed a stray hair from her eyes, and the streetlight made her lip gloss shine slightly. When Vlad spoke, his voice was hushed, and he already knew the answer to his question, but had to ask it anyway. “Are we still talking about my dad?”

The air between them warmed and before Vlad knew it, the space between them shrank. He wasn’t sure who moved first or if they moved in at the same time. He only knew that their lips met in a tender kiss, and that neither pulled away for several seconds.

When they did part, however, a flash of guilt crossed Meredith’s eyes.

Guilt because she had a thing for Joss, the way Joss had a thing for her.

Guilt because she and Vlad were over.

Something struck Vlad that hadn’t before. The kiss, while perfectly nice, hadn’t made his toes curl, hadn’t sent his heart into that fluttery rhythm, hadn’t made him dizzy with happiness the way it had before.

Because Vlad had known better kisses. Kisses from a girl called Snow.

Amazing, endearing, heartfelt kisses. Kisses that he had been missing not just with his lips, but with his very soul.

Mulling this over, Vlad wiped her lip gloss from his lips with the back of his hand. Vampires, after all, didn’t sparkle.

Meredith stayed quiet for a long time. Vlad wasn’t sure what to say to break the tension between them. Finally, as if pretending that the kiss hadn’t happened—which was probably for the best—she said, “Vlad ... I’m really glad you came here tonight. We’re friends, right? We can talk about stuff. Stuff that’s on our minds. Stuff that bothers us. Can’t we?”

Vlad shrugged, his thoughts still on Snow. Snow’s lips. Snow’s porcelain skin. Snow’s undeniably wonderful everything. “Of course.”

Meredith took a deep breath and furrowed her brow, her fingers curling over the edge of the wooden swing. “Okay, so look ... I know that you probably don’t like Joss very much...”

Vlad snapped his eyes to her in a warning—a warning that this subject was definitely off-limits—but she persisted. “But he’s really concerned about you. He sent me this e-mail, mentioned that you’d gotten in a fight—”

Vlad stood and moved across the porch, throwing his goodbyes over his shoulder. “It was nice talking with you, Meredith. I’ve gotta go, but ... I’ll see you around, okay?”

Meredith stood and followed him to the edge of the porch. As Vlad moved down the steps to the sidewalk, she spoke again. “Just so you know, I’m not mad anymore. Not about how you broke up with me.”

Vlad’s steps slowed. This he hadn’t expected at all. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, turning back to face her. “You’re not?”

Meredith shook her head, a soft brown curl falling to her cheek. Her eyes were full of reason and sensibility—two qualities Vlad truly believed he didn’t possess. “I’m sure you had your reasons, and whatever they were, they must’ve been pretty important.”

Vlad swallowed hard, not exactly anxious to discuss what his reasons were. After all, he’d tried that once at the Snow Ball, and it backfired big-time. There would be no telling Meredith the truth. Not again. She’d proven that she couldn’t handle hearing it. He dropped his gaze to his shoes for a moment. “They were.”

She grew quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her lips trembled slightly. “Are you still going out with that girl ... the one you brought to the Snow Ball?”

A hot pain flashed across Vlad’s chest. One of immense loss. Snow. Oh, how he missed her. He shook his head, wondering where this conversation was going, but hoping for a drastic change in subject. “Not really. We don’t talk much anymore.

He didn’t mention that they didn’t talk much because Vlad was avoiding her at all costs out of fear he might hurt her ... or worse, love her so completely that he couldn’t stay away from her. Not to mention that he didn’t know how to apologize for the way he’d left her.

Some things, he figured, were best left unsaid.

“Vlad ...” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes large and sad. “... about what you said to me that night. You were ... you were just kidding around, right? About being a ... a vampire?”

Vlad’s heart sank. It was here—his moment, the perfect time to admit his deepest secret to Meredith once again, to let her know who and what he really was. She’d asked him. All he had to do was confirm it.

But he couldn’t. It would shatter her. Even now, he could see the pleading in her eyes, pleading with him to take it all away, make it not so, give her back the world she thought she lived in.

Vlad sighed, and shook his head, slipping his hands inside his pockets and dropping his gaze to the ground. His voice was barely a whisper in the night. “Yeah. It was nothing. Just a joke.”

The night shrank in around him, making him feel small, insignificant, stupid. All he wanted was to tell her the truth. He couldn’t even get that right.

Meredith’s voice was quiet, soft, tinged with a hint of surprise, as if she’d expected him to tell her the opposite of what he had. “Oh.”

He looked at her then, and not for the first time wondered what Joss had told her about his nighttime activities, and about Vlad. He took a deep breath and pushed all of his questions deep down inside of him. Some things he could not bring himself to tell, and some things he could not bring himself to ask.