Eighth Grade Bites (11 page)

Vlad ran his fingers over the scribbled text before pressing his cheek to the page and allowing his eyelids to flutter closed.

He did not dream.

V
LAD WAS RUBBING SUNBLOCK on his face when Henry knocked on the bathroom door. “Be right out.” Vlad smeared a bit across his nose until it was all absorbed, then opened the door. Henry was sitting at the foot of his bed, sulking.

“So are you still reading that stupid journal?” Henry glanced over at the journal, which was poking out of Vlad's open backpack.

Vlad grabbed his bag and led the way down the stairs. “It's not stupid.”

They walked to school, winding their way through the streets without speaking a word. When they reached Room 6, Henry said, “I hope you haven't forgotten anyone.” He nodded toward Meredith, who was exchanging Valentine's gifts with Kara and Melissa.

The classroom looked like Cupid had thrown up all over it. Vlad cringed at the lace doilies, the pink and red hearts, and the winged infants that dotted the walls. He moved toward his desk and sat down. Mr. Otis entered the room right after Vlad. He wasn't wearing a costume. In fact, he looked pale and rather sickly. He dropped his bag on his desk and took his seat.

Mike Brennan held up one of the fallen paper cupids and piped up from the back of the room, “Hey, Mr. Otis. Is today the day we start studying fairies?”

The class erupted in laughter, but Mr. Otis remained stony. His voice was gruff. “Today will be a free day to work on your presentations.”

Vlad relaxed in his seat and lost himself in his father's journal for the better part of an hour. After some time, he came to a curiously short passage and paused.

Vlad jumped when Mr. Otis's voice—hoarse, as if he were suffering from a cold—boomed into the room. “That doesn't look like your presentation, Mr. Tod.” He gestured for Vlad to come forward, and after giving a heavy sigh, Vlad carried the journal to the teacher's desk. Mr. Otis looked at the cover for a moment and then flipped through the book's pages briefly. He pursed his lips and met Vlad's gaze. “See me after class.”

The remaining minutes of class dragged on for just short of an eternity. Mr. Otis alternated between staring blankly at his desk and flipping through pages of Tomas's journal—something that really irritated Vlad. Wrong or not, Vlad deserved a little privacy. But the likelihood was that Mr. Otis wouldn't see the journal as anything but a creative fiction, so he watched the clock tick the time away and let out his irritation with deep, calming breaths.

The bell rang and the class filed out into the hall. Vlad approached Mr. Otis's desk, ready for the lecture that was coming. Through the door, he could see Meredith talking with Henry in the hall. She was twirling a lock of her hair around her index finger and looking from Henry's shoes to his eyes and back. Henry had his hands in his pockets and his trademark grin on his lips. Henry must have said something funny, because Meredith laughed and touched his arm.

Vlad seethed.

Then, as if the flirtatious torture weren't enough, Meredith withdrew a carefully made valentine from her English book and handed it to Henry. Vlad's heart slammed against his ribs like they were iron bars and it was a prisoner trapped within his chest.

Life had a nasty way of being increasingly unfair.

Vlad reached into his backpack and pulled out a pathetic box of chocolates. He scowled at his crooked handwriting.
To Meredith—sweets for the sweet, Vlad
. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed them into the trash can beside Mr. Otis's desk.

Mr. Otis looked from the chocolates to Vlad with a distinct lack of sympathy. “When you are in my class, Vladimir, you will do as I instruct. You will not review materials that have nothing to do with the assigned subject matter. Do I make myself clear?”

Tomas's journal lay open on Mr. Otis's desk. Vlad tore his attention from it and looked his teacher in the eye. “Crystal.”

Otis dropped his gaze. His tone softened greatly. “If it's not too personal, Vlad, may I ask why you live with your aunt and not with your parents?”

“My mom and dad . . .” Vlad swallowed a growing lump in his throat. He rarely spoke to anyone about Tomas and Mellina. And why was Mr. Otis asking about them? “They died three years ago.”

Otis shifted in his seat. A great weight seemed to settle on his shoulders and he slouched over his desk. “I'm terribly sorry. How exactly did they die?”

“It was an accident—a house fire.” Vlad shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Why do you want to know?”

Otis shook his head, lost in thought. “Tragic. You must miss them very much.” His voice caught in his throat in what seemed like empathy. “Were you close to your father?”

That was enough. Vlad pressed his lips together and flashed Mr. Otis a firm look. “Can I have my journal back now, Mr. Otis?”

“But this isn't your journal, Vladimir, not really.” Mr. Otis's voice softened further, until it was almost a whisper. He caressed the pages of the journal lovingly before handing it to Vlad. “You should be careful what you believe, Mr. Tod. The world is full of monsters with friendly faces.”

Vlad snatched the journal and swung his backpack over his shoulder. His blood was sizzling. Without surprise, Vlad could feel his fangs scraping the inside of his lip. When he reached the door, he paused and turned back, careful to keep his fangs hidden. “Thanks for the advice, Mr. Otis. But I know more about monsters than you can even imagine.”

Mr. Otis merely nodded.

As Vlad opened his locker, he looked around for Henry, but didn't see him anywhere. He did, however, see Meredith. She smiled and bounded over to him. “Happy Valentine's Day, Vlad.”

Vlad cleared his throat. He was still angry at her for flirting with his best friend, but getting mad at pretty girls is easy; staying mad at them is another story altogether. “Yeah, you too.”

“I didn't see you after English, so I left a valentine I made for you with Henry.” She raised her hand and twirled one of her perfect brown ringlets around her finger.

Vlad melted into the floor. “Oh . . . I . . . I forgot yours at home.”

A slight blush tinged her cheeks pink. “It's okay. You don't have to get me anything.”

“I already did. It's . . . it's really nice.” The hallway was becoming quickly less populated, which meant there wasn't much time before the bell rang. Vlad managed a smile without blushing too much. “Well, I'd better hurry or I'll be late for math.”

Meredith groaned. “Isn't Mr. Harold the worst? I have him fourth period.”

Vlad nodded. “Yeah, he's pretty bad.”

“See you later, Vlad.”

“Yeah.” Vlad closed his locker and floated down the hall to Mr. Harold's second-period math class.

 

Vlad finished reading the journal for the night and marked the page with a paper clip before closing it. Despite Henry's objections, he
had
been learning a lot from his dad's entries lately. He stood and moved his lawn chair closer to one of the belfry's arched windows. The town of Bathory was eerily silent, and the air was charged with a particularly uncomfortable vibe. Even the goth kids had neglected their place on the high school's steps for the evening.

Vlad extinguished the candles and stepped out onto the ledge. He looked over the town, feeling more than just literally above it. In his journal, Tomas had spoken of an entire world populated by vampires. Tomas ranted about a vampire who he thought would come for him and his family, because Tomas had committed the horrendous crime of loving a human and deserting vampirekind. The idea of other vampires sent a chilling thrill through Vlad's veins. It was both terrifying and undeniably exciting. And the journal gave Vlad all the proof he needed to believe his parents had been murdered.

A low, muffled sound that might have been shouting reached Vlad's ear. He turned his head toward the parking lot of the junior high school two blocks over. Two men were arguing loudly. Vlad tucked the journal in his inside jacket pocket and floated down to a nearby oak. Willing his body forward, he bounced gingerly from tree to tree until he stood in the crook of another large oak tree, over the heads of the two arguing men.

Mr. Otis opened the door to his car. His usual smile had been replaced with a sneer. He dropped his bag in the front seat and turned back to the man dressed in black. “This conversation is over.”

“Don't speak to me like I'm one of your students, Otis.” The man slanted his dark eyes. His words were fog in the cool air. “Where is Tomas?”

Vlad raised a perplexed eyebrow. The man couldn't possibly mean his dad. Walking carefully out onto a branch, Vlad perched on the limb and listened.

“I can't provide you with information I don't have.” Otis looked at the ground at his feet and lowered his voice so that Vlad had to strain to hear him. “The boy will lead me to him. Give him time.”

The man in black stepped forward, his body suddenly stiff, anxious. “You've located the Pravus?”

Otis met the man's eyes with a stubborn glance. “I've been in contact with Vladimir, yes.”

Vlad leaned so far forward at the mention of his name that he had to steady himself with his hand on another branch or he'd have fallen on Mr. Otis's head. Now
that
would have been an awkward moment.

After a moment of silence, the man placed his arm on the roof of Otis's car and drummed his fingers with a decided lack of patience. “Why are you hiding your thoughts from me, Otis? And why haven't I been able to read the minds of the townspeople? You've found a connection to Tomas after the council has searched for him for fourteen long years, and you haven't informed anyone? Why? What are you up to?”

Otis glanced up at the branch that Vlad was perched on. Vlad held his breath. He couldn't possibly be seen from this distance, especially not with the cover of darkness. Yet Vlad swore he could feel Otis's eyes on him.

After a nerve-rackingly long moment, Otis returned his attention to the man in front of him, but he didn't speak.

The man grabbed Otis by the collar and hissed, “If you gave those people the Tego charm to block my telepathy—”

Otis laughed, but his posture suggested he was ready to defend himself if need be. “You worry too much. I'm on your side. Remember? I want to find Tomas just as much as you do.”

The man relaxed his grip on Otis's collar and took a step back. “Then explain to me what's going on here.”

Otis smiled, his eyes chastising. “Have you considered that Tomas may have given the Tego charm to any number of Bathory citizens? He is trying to elude us, after all.”

The man searched Otis's eyes and nodded. “I suppose it's possible.”

A tingling sensation had begun at Vlad's toes and was spreading upward. His foot had fallen asleep. He sat, allowing his numb foot time to stop tingling. The branch creaked softly beneath him.

The man's eyes darted to the tree Vlad was sitting in. Once again, Vlad didn't breathe. “Did you hear something?”

Otis placed a hand on the man's shoulder and directed him back to the sidewalk. “Being away from Elysia is making you paranoid, D'Ablo. Go home. Get some rest. When I locate Tomas, I'll contact you.”

After D'Ablo had disappeared down the street, Otis turned and walked back to the tree. He looked up at the branch of the large oak, his eyes searching.

From the bushes near the sidewalk, Vlad breathed a very tense, very quiet sigh of relief.