The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills (23 page)

Joss nodded and made his way down the sidewalk. After he’d gone, Henry squeezed Vlad’s shoulder before turning to leave. “Sorry about the nose, dude.”

 

Vlad tried not to look down, even though he’d climbed up into the big oak tree easily enough. It still made him nervous, and he still wondered why Henry had insisted on climbing it when they were little kids. He’d been up there for about an hour, mulling over exactly how to approach his dad. So far, he still had no idea.

So maybe it was fate that opened the back door of Vlad’s house and pushed Tomas out and in the direction of the old oak tree.

His dad smiled up at him. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Vlad shifted some on the branch to a more comfortable position. “Why? I never liked climbing this tree.”

Tomas shrugged. “Just a feeling I had.”

“Can you still detect fellow vampires, now that your Mark is gone?”

“Yes.”

“But they can’t detect you?”

“No.”

“Can they control you?”

Tomas raised an eyebrow, looking very much like Vlad’s older reflection. “Is that really what’s on your mind, Vlad?”

Vlad set his jaw. “Well, can they?”

“No. I’m free of Elysia’s binds.” Tomas met Vlad’s gaze. “What’s troubling you, son? Talk to me. What’s going through that head of yours? If something’s going on, just tell me. I’m always here for you.”

Vlad slid forward, dropping from the branch and floated effortlessly to the ground. After he landed, he met his dad’s eyes. “Someone told me something about you. Something disturbing. I came here to ask you if it’s true or not. But I’m not really sure I want to know.”

“Maybe I’m not the one you should be asking.”

“You’re the only one who can answer my question.”

“Then maybe you should be asking a different question, son.”

Vlad sighed. It felt like his world was falling apart. “Like what?”

“Like ... do you trust me?” His dad smiled slightly and gave his shoulder a squeeze, his eyes full of a warmth that only a father could convey. “Because if you do, then no other question need be asked. If you trust me, no one and nothing else matters.”

His words hung in the air between them, and Vlad examined each one like an extremely careful surgeon, picking them apart and putting them back together again.

In the end, they made perfect sense.

Vlad nodded slowly, pushing away all of Otis’s crazy theories and every bad thought that he’d had about his dad since he left Nelly’s house just an hour ago.

He did trust his dad.

And that was all that mattered.

I
T WAS LUNCHTIME at Bathory High School. Lunchtime on a Tuesday, which could only mean one thing.

It was Taco Tuesday. Henry’s favorite day of the week.

Henry’s lunch tray had been covered with eight tacos when they’d stepped out of line, but they’d only been at the table for about ten minutes and his supply was already running dangerously low. He was down to three, and another fresh, crunchy shell was already in his hand and lifted to his open mouth.

Vlad’s tray contained four tacos. Joss’s contained three. But neither was feeling very hungry at the moment.

“What about your uncle? You said he’s open-minded. Can’t he get together a bunch of vampires to help us? Or maybe talk some sense into this Em person?” Joss’s voice was low, but Vlad could tell he was on the verge of shouting in frustration. They’d been searching for a solution, a plan, for weeks now to no avail. Every idea they’d had so far was dangerously stupid.

Vlad sighed. “Not gonna happen, Joss. Otis can’t change Em’s mind, and I’m betting she has more followers than he does in Elysia. She’s ancient. People fear her. What about your uncle? Can’t he change the minds of the Slayer Society?”

Joss threw him a glance that said that that subject was closed. Apparently, Joss was about as close to his uncle as Vlad had been to D’Ablo.

Joss pushed his tray back, folded his arms on the table in front of him, and rested his chin on them. He was silent for a long time, but when he spoke, his words touched Vlad deeply. “I don’t want to kill you.”

Vlad slumped his shoulders in defeat. “And I don’t want to die. But we’re running out of options and time.”

Joss released a heavy, troubled sigh. “I don’t know what to do. The Slayer Society won’t stop unless you’re dead.”

“And Em won’t stop until I’m dead.” Vlad sighed too. It came from deep within him, from the center of his very being. “What are we gonna do?”

A loud crunch came from Henry as he took the last bite of his last taco. He chewed loudly, then stretched his arm across the table to Joss’s tray, snagging another taco. As he brought the taco back to his own tray, he shrugged with one shoulder. “Fake your death.”

Joss sat up slowly, blinking at Henry. Vlad straightened his posture, glancing from Joss to Henry and back.

Henry hadn’t been doing much talking at all since the other night, when they’d told him all about the fallback plan. And the killer thing was ... his suggestion was kind of brilliant, and way too obvious for Vlad and Joss to have missed it during their long debates about what to do.

Joss shook his head, as unwilling as Vlad to accept that Henry had just had an excellent idea. “How are we going to do that exactly? The Slayers aren’t blind and the vampires can detect Vlad by reaching out with their blood.”

Henry paused for a moment, midchew, as if mulling Joss’s question over in his mind. Seemingly satisfied with his thought process, he swallowed another bite, looked at Vlad, and said, “That clearing just outside of town has a cliff on the north end, just beyond the trees. If the Slayers see you go over and you use your freaky Pravus powers to block the vampires’ detection ... it could work.”

Vlad thought about it, and even though the idea had settled the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at least a little—to the point where he almost reached for a taco himself, there was still that other thing to be considered. “But Henry, if I go over that cliff, I’ll break my neck.”

Henry shook his head and rolled his eyes before helping himself to a taco from Vlad’s tray. “Dude. Have you forgotten who you are? You can hover.”

Joss and Vlad exchanged looks. Tense, scrutinizing, wondering looks. This could work. This could really work. They collectively shook their heads and the corner of Vlad’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “You’ve been holding out on us, Henry. I had no idea you were so full of great ideas.”

Henry held up his taco—formerly Vlad’s—and grinned. “Little-known fact, gentlemen. Tacos are the food of genius.”

Vlad and Joss grinned too and the three toasted to Henry’s brilliant plan with tacos, thankful that it was Tuesday, and that they finally had a small chance of fixing all of their problems in one fell swoop.

V
LAD WAS DONNING THE NEW SKULL SCARF that Nelly had knitted him and given to him on Christmas, standing outside in the cold. His fingers were starting to go numb. Beside him, Joss was twirling his stake between his fingers, waiting. Today was the day. The day that they would dupe Slayers and vampires alike, and see just how well Henrys taco-fueled plan would work.

They’d been waiting for hours now and the sun had finally begun its descent. But there was still no sign of either the Society or Elysia. Vlad was beginning to wonder if they’d ever show.

He and Joss hadn’t spoken much since arriving in the clearing. Maybe because there was nothing to say. Or maybe because they were both going over the plan again and again in their minds. It had to work. It just had to.

Just as Joss had turned to Vlad and started to say something to break the silence, there was a rustle in the bushes to the right and out stepped a man. He was dressed in earth tones, slacks with boots, a button-down shirt and vest, a flowing, almost capelike trench coat. A brown leather baldric holding six small blades crossed his chest. At his hip was a leather holster, holding a wooden stake. His cheek was scarred, a four-inch-wide crescent shape. He cocked a displeased eyebrow at Joss. “You’re supposed to kill it. Not speak with it.”

Joss stumbled over his words, hurrying to retrieve his own stake from the ground and return it to its place on his hip. “Uncle Abraham ... you’re ... here ...”

Abraham pursed his lips. “On your feet, Slayer. Dispatch this vampire. Rid the world of this evil. Do as you have been instructed to do.”

By the tone in his voice, Vlad got the feeling that Joss’s uncle didn’t like weakness, and when Abraham looked at Joss, it was all he could see.

Joss looked from his uncle to Vlad and back again. “I was about to.”

Here it was. Time to enact their get-out-of-jail-free plan. All they needed was a vampire to witness Vlad’s miraculous execution.

“Abraham. It’s been too long.” Vlad’s dad wore a peculiar smile as he entered the clearing. Vlad raised an eyebrow at the familiarity in his tone, and resisted the urge to sigh in relief. They had their vampire. Now it was Joss’s turn. Vlad eyed Joss’s stake, ready as he’d ever be.

Abraham’s hand hesitated on his stake. His tone was full of surprise and alarm, and just a little bit of fear. He reached up and gently stroked the scar on his cheek. “Tomas”

“Oh, now isn’t this a surprising reunion?” Vlad turned at the familiar voice. Otis offered him a wink and then turned to face the Slayer.

“Otis.” Abraham’s voice held no surprise this time, like he’d expected Otis to be along anytime since Tomas was here.

Vlad raised a sharp eyebrow. “You three know one another?”

Otis smiled, keeping his eyes on Joss’s uncle the entire time. “Oh yes. Abraham and your father are well acquainted.”

“Nice scar, by the way.” Tomas grinned, then glanced at his son. “And Otis and Abraham are simply the best of friends.”

“That’s not at all how I recall it. But my memory’s fading.” Otis took a step closer to Abraham, but, to Vlad’s surprise, Abraham didn’t take a step back. He stood there defiantly. Otis smiled. “Perhaps we should reminisce about old times?”

“Over a drink?” Tomas stifled a chuckle as he too stepped closer to Abraham.

Abraham gripped his stake and glared at them both, growling, “I’ll have your heads.”

Otis clucked his tongue. “Like that fateful day, Abraham, there are only two Slayers here, and three vampires. You are outwitted and outmatched.”

Tomas shook his head, stepping even closer. “And this time, we won’t turn the other cheek.”

Abraham laughed, and by the sound of it, Vlad was pretty sure it wasn’t something he did often. “You actually think I’m here alone? What kind of fool do you take me for?”

A wooden stake whipped by Tomas’s head. He had just barely ducked it before it slammed six inches into a tree behind him. Vlad whipped his head around to see a Slayer standing in the woods, a modified crossbow in his hands.

Otis quipped, “One with a short lifespan.”

Vlad looked at Joss and nodded. Joss nodded back, then ran toward Vlad, stake held high. Vlad bolted across the clearing, but kept his movements slow enough that Joss could keep up. They wrestled for a moment, struggling for the stake and then Joss raised his eyebrows, as if to silently ask Vlad if he was ready. Vlad nodded.

That’s when Joss pretended to stake him, and then tossed him over the cliff.

Vlad flew over the edge, but with a little concentration, hovering just out of sight was an easy thing to do. From above, all he heard were whispers and muttering. It had worked. They had totally faked his own death.

He owed Henry about a zillion tacos.

Strong fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him upward. Vlad almost screamed as it felt like his scalp was being torn off. Lying on the ground, once more in the clearing, Vlad looked up to find Em holding his hair, looking disgusted. “Faking your death, are we? Not a bright boy, my great-grandson. That has to be the oldest—and dumbest—trick in the book.”

She looked back at Abraham and said, “If you truly believe, Slayer, that you’re going to take Tomas’s life before I’ve had the pleasure, you should think again. I’ve come to carry out a sentence that has been a long time coming.

She glanced at Vlad’s dad. “Italy, Tomas? Really.”

When she looked back at Abraham, her eyes were no longer rolling. “Don’t think the threat of wood will do so much as make me hesitate. I knew your great-great-grandfather.” She snapped her teeth playfully at Abraham and grinned. “He was delicious.”

At her final word, a group of no less than six Slayers descended on the clearing. Em, as if expecting this, snatched Abraham close to her while elongating her fangs and hissing into his ear, “Call off your pets, Abraham. Or die.”

Abraham hesitated, then waved them away.

Vlad never thought he’d ever be happy to see Em, but at the moment, he kinda was.

Live and learn.

E
VERYONE IN THE CLEARING-all but Abraham and Joss—relaxed some then.

“Not so fast, Tomas.” Em’s voice was an echo in the night. Both Tomas and Vlad blinked at her. “There is the slight matter of your execution to tend to.”

Vlad stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes, and looked at his father. Tomas merely shrugged casually, as if her threats meant nothing to him.

“I think we might have slightly more pressing matters at hand, Madame Council.” The sarcasm in Tomas’s voice was evident.

“I think that the assembled mass of vampires currently in Bathory can more than take care of a small group of Slayers.” An evil glint crossed her eyes. “I brought them in hungry.”

With a twitch of her finger two of her cronies stepped forward from their spot in the surrounding woods. “Alert the others and take care of them.”