Tenth Grade Bleeds (18 page)

“You want more.”

They exchanged understanding glances, and Vlad eased up on the mattress. He looked at Henry. “It's like I just realized that paradise is all around me, lurking in the veins of people. It's wrong. I know it's wrong. But it's all I can think about right now. As if the moment I swallowed that girl's blood, it woke up this thing inside me. This hunger. This . . . beast.”

Henry stood and Vlad winced, blurting out, “Don't come any closer.”

Henry hesitated, then crossed the room anyway and sat on the bed beside Vlad. “You won't hurt me, Vlad. I know that.”

Vlad wanted to believe that, but he just wasn't sure. “I don't. Not anymore.”

Henry went quiet for a while. After a long time, he whispered, “Did you kill her?”

Vlad licked his lips, the taste of her blood still, incredibly, on his tongue. “No. But I wanted to.”

The image of Snow's sweet face floated at the front of Vlad's imagination, followed shortly by the feeling of his fangs as they'd sunk into her pale flesh. Vlad broke, and hot tears streamed down his face. “Oh God, Henry! I'm sick. I'm a monster. Joss was right!”

Henry shook his head adamantly. “You are not a monster, and my idiot cousin couldn't have been more wrong. You're just . . .”

He looked at Vlad, as if trying to determine just what exactly Vlad had become. Finally, he shrugged. “Well, I guess your needs are just changing.”

Vlad dried his eyes on his sleeve and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Otis mentioned that. Before he left. He told me that if I didn't start feeding on humans, I could become a danger to the people I care about.”

He ran a trembling hand through his hair. The smell of warm, delicious human blood was calling to him from within Henry's veins. He had to get a grip. “What am I supposed to do?”

The room grew silent as they both mulled over the possibilities in their minds. It didn't take long, as there weren't many to be considered.

Henry cleared his throat, and in a raspy voice said, “You could feed off me. I mean, if you needed to. Just until you release me, y'know?”

“No. I won't feed off a person ever again. I just . . . can't.” But glimpsing the vein on Henry's neck told him that he could. And if Henry didn't keep his distance, Vlad would.

Henry gauged his reaction for a moment, then said, “ Then we need to find another solution. What about teachers? They're not really people.”

Vlad cracked a smile. “ Think that would help my geometry grade?”

Henry chuckled. “Nothing can help that, Vlad.”

Vlad took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His hunger diminished some, enough to make him feel like maybe he wasn't going to rip into Henry's veins. “Hey, Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“Does this mean we can hang out again?”

Henry looked taken aback. “I never said we couldn't hang out.”

“You said it. Maybe not with words, but your actions said everything.” Vlad swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat. “You're sick of me, remember?”

Henry winced. “Vlad, I—”

“Just tell me one thing.” Vlad swallowed again, but his throat was still very dry. He glanced at Henry. “If I hadn't bitten you when we were eight, if I hadn't made you into my drudge, would we still be friends?”

There was a long pause. After several minutes, Vlad began to wonder if Henry was ever going to speak—or worse, if Henry's silence was doing the talking for him.

Henry ran his hand through his hair again. He sighed, stood, and crossed the room. He wasn't pacing, but it sure seemed like he was having a difficult time sitting still. And with every sigh, every step, Vlad became more and more worried that his fears hadn't been irrational, that maybe Henry really was only friends with him because of the drudge thing.

Finally Henry stopped moving and shoved his hands into his front pockets. He dropped his eyes to the floor—his tone followed. “How can you even ask me that question, Vlad? How can you doubt that I'd be your friend no matter what, despite some stupid vampire virus that you knew nothing about at the time?”

He met Vlad's eyes, hurt shimmering in his. “Of course we'd be friends.”

A strange mixture of guilt and relief flooded over Vlad, and when he sighed, it seemed to make it easier to breathe, like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He nodded quietly at Henry, showing his relief that their friendship was real. Henry didn't just hang out with him because of some vampire master's spell. He actually liked Vlad. And that was pretty cool.

Vlad cleared his throat. “So, what's with the distance lately?”

Henry sank into his desk chair again. “ To be honest, I've been really stupid. Questioning why you never gave me a choice about being your drudge. Stuff like that. It's not like you knew what biting me would do. And I was the one who suggested it.”

He grew quiet for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was but a whisper in the quiet dark of the room. “I guess I've just been wondering if you'd wander off someday with your vampire friends and leave me behind. I mean, why wouldn't you pick vampires over me?”

Vlad's jaw nearly hit the floor. He never imagined that Henry, Mr. Cool, king of make-out and popularity galore, would be worried about Vlad leaving him behind. He shook his head vehemently. “Because you're Henry. Because you're my best friend, and I can't picture any part of my life without you in it.”

Their eyes met. After another long silence, Henry smirked. “So should we hug now, or . . . ?”

Vlad chuckled, putting a hand up. “Hey man, I missed you. But I didn't miss you that much.”

Henry grinned, then grew more serious and said, “It would be easier to be your drudge if you didn't order me around.”

“Sometimes it's just easier to tell you to do something instead of ask.” Vlad shrugged as a wave of guilt crashed over him. “I know that's wrong . . . but it's true.”

After a moment, Henry cleared his throat and said, “So, have you heard anything from Otis lately?”

Vlad shook his head, pulling the letter he'd just received from Vikas from his back pocket. “Nothing yet. But I'd written to Vikas to see if he knew what was going on with Otis and he wrote back a couple of weeks ago, said he had no idea but would check into it. I wrote him again, and just got a letter back this morning.”

“What did he say?”

Vlad unfolded the parchment, revealing Vikas's perfect cursive, and read aloud.

 

 

Henry spoke quietly, his words sending a shiver down Vlad's spine. “So, they were friends?”

“More mentor and mentored, it seems, but yeah.” Vlad folded the note and returned it to his pocket. “I wonder what my dad would think of his onetime friend trying to take his son's life.”

“Repeatedly.” Henry met his gaze, his eyes brimming with concern. “Why didn't you tell me you were still having nightmares?”

Vlad shrugged. “You were distracted. But yeah, I'm still having them. Not to mention the weird visit I got from a vampire named Ignatius.”

Henry gave him a look, and Vlad poured his guts out, filling his friend in on all of the details that he'd missed out on. After he finished, Henry hesitantly said, “Listen, Vlad. About me not wanting to be your drudge anymore . . .”

“It's okay, Henry.” Vlad wet his lips. His mouth felt horrifically dry. “I get it. I do. And it's okay. But releasing you involves another bite—”

A momentary flash of fear crossed Henry's eyes.

“—and right now I'm just not sure that's such a good idea.”

“Okay. But we'll talk about it later, right?”

Vlad winced at his friend's reaction, but understood it completely. “Of course. I should get home. Nelly's going to be irate that I was out so late.”

Henry shrugged, as if the solution were obvious. “Why don't you just crash here for the night?”

“And tell her what?”

“ Tell her it was my fault you got in so late, and I begged you to sleep over.”

Vlad mulled this over for a minute. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stayed at Henry's house without letting Nelly know in advance. Of course, there was the maddening scent of Henry's blood to be considered. . . .

“You'll be safe. I promise,” he said. “I won't attack you or anything.”

Henry frowned and grabbed one of the pillows from his bed. He tossed it to Vlad. “Who are you trying to convince, Vlad? Me or you?”

Vlad bit his bottom lip and lay down on the floor, curling up on his side. He was too terrified to admit that he didn't know the answer to Henry's question.

 

 

Vlad tried desperately to tug his arms free, but the straps held fast, digging into his wrists and ankles, refusing to release him.

The shadowed man lifted the blade over his chest and plunged it deep between his ribs. Vlad screamed, howling from the pain. As his torturer pulled the knife out and stabbed him again, he lost his voice, unable to express with mere shrieking how unbearable the pain was. Blood gushed from his torso, spilling onto the floor below.

His torturer leaned forward, into the light, and Vlad was not at all surprised to see his face, which was twisted in an expression of immense satisfaction.

D'Ablo.

 

 

“Vlad! Vlad!” Henry shook him awake from his nightmare.

Vlad sat up, eyes wide. His hands were trembling as he combed back the hair from his sweat-drenched face.

“You were screaming. Are you okay?”

Vlad shook his head. It was his nightmare again. His never-ending nightmare. “ The journal, Henry. He wants the journal. And he won't stop sending me these nightmares until I give it to him.”

“I thought you were convinced the dreams were a vision of the future.”

“I think maybe I was wrong. I think they're a threat.” Vlad gasped, trying to calm his nerves, and failing miserably. “I'm giving it to him. I just can't take this anymore.”

Henry's tone softened. “Are you sure you want to do that? You know he probably has some pretty twisted reasons for wanting it.”

Vlad lay back down, phantom pain still lighting up his chest. “I don't think I have much of a choice.”

Henry paused, then said, “Well, do what you gotta do, man. Now get some sleep, okay?”

Vlad curled up on his side, his fingers still trembling. That was it, then. The decision was made. He had to hand over the journal to D'Ablo.

He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that he'd memorized every page and there was nothing within it that D'Ablo shouldn't necessarily see. But still sleep came very slowly. And when it did, it was filled with more nightmares.

The worst Vlad had yet experienced.

N
ELLY'S VOICE HAD RISEN SO HIGH that it had left the realm of hysterical about five octaves ago. “Vladimir, I don't know what's gotten into you lately. First, you nearly bite Meredith. Then you get detention for skipping class and kissing in the supply room—”

“It was a broom closet, and I wasn't skipping class.”

“—and now you're hanging out with a new set of friends who keep you out all hours of the night, with no explanation of where you've been or what you've been doing.”

Vlad took a deep breath, buying time to go over his and Henry's story once more in his mind before speaking it out loud. “I told you, Nelly. We went to this club in Stokerton, and afterward I ran into Henry. He said he'd give me a ride home, but he got distracted by a girl, and then I stayed over at his place so I wouldn't wake you up.”

Nelly shook her head. “And just how long did it take you and Henry to come up with that feeble excuse?”

Vlad pursed his lips. Nelly was smarter than he'd been giving her credit for.

When she spoke again, her voice cracked. “And exactly why is the front of the shirt you wore last night covered in what looks like dried blood?”