The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills

by Heather Brewer

  It was bad. Really bad. Worse than Henry would ever know—he and Joss had agreed on that. They’d tell Henry about the Slayer Society and about Em. They’d tell him about the journal and how important it was. But they wouldn’t tell him about their last-resort plan of action, about Joss staking Vlad.

  He was better off not knowing.

  Or, more accurately, Joss’s face was better off without Henry’s fists knowing.

  “You know I’m a ... Slayer ... right?” At Henry’s nod, Joss looked a bit relieved and continued. “I belong to a group known as the Slayer Society. They exist solely for the purpose of extinguishing vampires. They believe that vampires are an abomination, an evil that has to be snuffed out before it infects mankind.”

  To Vlad’s surprise—and great joy—he saw disgust in Joss’s eyes. He didn’t know if that was because Joss had changed his mind about vampires, or if it was something to do with his feelings for the Society now. He only knew that seeing it was way better than seeing the blind follower that Joss had once been.

  Joss looked like he was struggling with what was coming next. But Henry had to know. “The Society is coming to Bathory. And they plan to murder everyone in this town, unless I do something they’ve instructed me to do.”

  Henry raised an eyebrow. “How many of them?”

  Joss whispered, “All of them. Hundreds. Almost a thousand.”

  Henry seemed to relax some. “That’s not so many.”

  Vlad leaned forward. “It’s enough, Henry. Enough to cleanse this town of every human being in it.”

  Joss nodded his agreement. “One well-trained Slayer can take down a group of a hundred men without blinking an eye.”

  “Okay ... so that’s bad.” Henry took a deep breath and released it. “But what makes you think they’re capable of actually doing it, actually killing everyone?”

  “Because they’ve done it before. Only no one but the Society knows they’ve done it. From natural disasters, like wild-fires, to populations just disappearing—the Slayer Society has made an art out of making people disappear. Joss looked immensely embarrassed to be a part of that group. Maybe, Vlad thought, he wasn’t anymore. Not deep down. Not in his heart.

  Henry ran an exhausted hand through his hair and sighed. “So ... what do they want you to do exactly?”

  Joss swallowed hard and wet his lips before speaking. “They want me to kill a vampire.”

  Henry’s face dropped.

  Joss cleared his throat. He and Vlad stood slowly and Joss said, Actually ... they want me to kill one vampire in particular.”

  Slowly—very slowly, almost painfully so—understanding came to Henry’s eyes. His face turned red. He jumped up, swinging his fist, but Vlad moved as fast as he was able to and stopped him, holding Henry in place with the use of his vampire strength. Without it, Henry probably would’ve broken Vlad’s arm just to get to Joss. “I won’t let you kill him, Joss! I won’t let you hurt Vlad!”

  Joss held up his hands and stepped back. It was Vlad’s turn.

  Vlad kept his voice as calm as he was able. “Come on, Henry. Calm down. Please don’t make me order you to sit and listen, okay? Please?”

  At first, Henry wasn’t budging. He fought back as hard as he could, but McMillan or not, he was no match for Vlad. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping, his eyes red and moist with frustration and upset.

  With a nod from Vlad, Joss continued. “They want Vlad to die, Henry. And if he doesn’t die, everyone else—including you-will.”

  Henry glared at Joss, and Vlad knew every foul word that was going through his best friend’s head. He hated his cousin for what he was saying, and hated that his vampire master wouldn’t let him just beat the snot out of him for saying it.

  Vlad said, “Everyone, Henry. Nelly, Otis, Snow, your parents. Everyone.”

  “He’s lying.” The bitter words left Henry’s tongue in a sizzle. But as soon as he said them, he doubted them. “He could be lying.”

  Vlad shook his head. Joss was telling the truth. They both knew that. “Joss came to me and told me about what the Society’s plans were, and it turns out, there’s this ritual in my dad’s journal that could stop the Slayers, and could even stop Em.”

  Henry’s eyes lit up with surprise. “So where is it?”

  Vlad and Joss exchanged looks. It was Vlad who answered. “We don’t know. But we’re looking for it.”

  A whisper escaped Henry. “And if you don’t find it?”

  The room went silent for several minutes. Then Vlad squeezed Henry’s shoulder. “Let’s not worry about that just yet, okay? First we have to focus on finding that journal.”

  “I’m all for finding the journal, but why not kill some other vampire and tell them it was Vlad? Or tell them he stepped into the sunlight and burst into flames?”

  Joss shook his head and sighed, as if he’d gone over every scenario a billion times, trying to find a way for Vlad to live. “They’d know, Henry. Vlad is ... well ...”

  “The Pravus?” Something in Henry’s tone sounded almost annoyed.

  Joss nodded slowly.

  For the first time since hearing the news of Vlad’s impending death, Henry tore his gaze from his cousin and looked at Vlad, one eyebrow cocked. “What about bringing in more vampires—like the vampires who were gathered last year at your old house in support against your trial?”

  Vlad shook his head. “Anyone who stands against Em publicly will die, Henry. I can’t risk their lives just to save my own.”

  Henry threw his arms up and growled, his face flushing red as his temper flew. “Well, use mind control and convince everyone you moved to Tahiti then!”

  “Henry ...” Vlad met his best friend’s gaze, trying like hell to get Henry to understand that he and Joss had thought of every possible avenue. “Don’t you think we’ve tried to come up with other ideas? Because we have! This is it, okay? This is the only way. We find the journal. That’s it.”

  Joss ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I wish there was something more we could do.”

  Vlad shot him a warning glance. He couldn’t let it slip that the only other option and their fall-back plan was for Joss to stake Vlad. They had to keep that secret from Henry at all costs. Or else Henry would end up doing something really stupid.

  Henry leaned closer to Vlad, his voice dropping to a conspiring whisper. “Have you considered that Joss may be lying?”

  Vlad had considered it. But he knew that deep down, in his gut, he felt like Joss was telling him the truth.

  And that was good enough for Vlad.

  Vlad looked from Joss back to Henry. “I trust him, Henry. And I need you to trust him too.”

  Henry shook his head gravely, defiantly. “I can’t.”

  “Then trust me, the way you always have.”

  Henry was quiet for a long time. Finally, he sighed heavily, defeated. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  Vlad patted him roughly on the shoulder. His words were a whisper. “That makes three of us.”

  26

  GOING HOME

  WHAT ABOUT some sort of disguise?”

  Vlad rolled his eyes as he and Henry made their way down the sidewalk from the Stop & Shop. On their way back from searching the park for his dad’s journal, they’d each bought a two-liter of Vault and several bags of candy, because nothing says weekday afternoon like a massive, head-exploding sugar rush. “A disguise? Seriously, Henry? I can’t hide from vampires, because they can find me by reaching out for my blood. And I can’t hide from Slayers in a costume of some sort because it’s stupid. A fake mustache isn’t the answer.

  Henry shrugged. “Well . . . change your name then.”

  Vlad slowed his steps to a stop. Henry stopped too. “They can’t find Vladimir Tod if Egbert Hargrove is sleeping in his bed.”

  With that, Vlad smacked Henry upside the head.

  Henry shouted, “Dude!” and rubbed at the offended area.

  Vlad shook his head. “Y
ou really are a genius, Henry. I’ll see ya later, okay?”

  As Vlad turned toward Nelly’s gate, Henry called out, “See ya later, Egbert.”

  Shaking his head, Vlad moved through the gate, up the steps, and into the house. What he saw inside left him confused and wondering.

  “I just don’t understand what the rush is, Tomas. It’s ... it’s so soon. Can’t you wait another month?” Nelly’s voice was shaking slightly in upset. Vlad could tell that she was doing everything in her power not to start crying, but that dam could break at any moment. “Just one month. What’s the harm?”

  Tomas sighed and gathered Nelly’s hands in his, meeting her eyes with calm understanding. “Nelly, you’ve been a wonderful mother figure to Vlad, but it’s time. It’s time for us to move home again and continue with the life we left behind. It’s time for us to move back to Lugosi Trail.”

  Otis was standing in the background, not speaking. Vlad hadn’t been able to read his expression since his dad had begun telling them about moving back home, but if he had to wager a guess, he’d say that Otis was worried.

  About what, he had no idea.

  Nelly squeezed Tomas’s hands, her fingers shaking. “I just don’t understand the rush.”

  “Nelly . . .” Tomas took on a parental tone, chastising her. “What rush? I’ve been here for months and Vlad has been in your care for years. It’s time we went home. And nothing you say can change my mind.”

  He held her gaze for a moment and as he let go of her hands, Nelly’s eyes dropped to the floor in defeat. Vlad glanced at Otis, who still hadn’t moved, who still hadn’t shown so much as a crack in his blank expression.

  Tomas squeezed Vlad’s shoulder. “Pack your belongings tonight. We move in the morning.”

  Vlad blinked. That was fast. “What about Otis? Will he stay with us?”

  Tomas shook his head. Otis, at last, spoke, though Vlad still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I’ll move in here, with Nelly. It’s only appropriate, as we’ll be a married couple soon.”

  “What about Vikas?” Vlad’s bottom lip trembled as he spoke. It surprised him how nervous he was about moving back into his old house, but he was. Nervous and apprehensive and completely weirded out by the idea.

  Much like he’d been weirded out that his dad was still alive after all.

  His dad nodded. Judging by the look in his eye, he was in no mood to entertain arguments from his son. “Vikas will remain in the guest room until the end of the year, when he’ll return to Siberia.”

  Vlad swallowed hard. It was a cold reminder that he and his dad wouldn’t see the new year. If he didn’t find that journal, he’d die at the hand of Joss, at the hand of his friend the Slayer, to save everyone in town from a horrible demise. Otis and his dad would be none the wiser. Not until it was too late.

  No one would know until then. Except for Henry, Joss, and Snow.

  Snow, who he hadn’t even told yet.

  And the only reason he’d told Henry and was planning to tell Snow was so Joss had people to back him up, to defend that it had been Vlad’s choice, that Joss wasn’t really a bad guy after all.

  But he had no idea how to even broach the subject with Snow.

  Snow, who walked him home every day after school now. Snow, who snuck quick kisses in the hall before lunch. Snow, who had quickly become his reason for going to school every day, despite knowing that he’d never live to see graduation.

  As if summoned by thought—something that was totally impossible now that she was no longer his drudge—the doorbell rang. Vlad opened it to reveal Snow, dressed in knee-high moto boots, black trench coat, black skinny jeans, and a black T-shirt that read I KISSED A VAMPIRE AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT. Her hair was brushed behind one ear, revealing a pewter ear cuff that clung to her lobe. Seeing him, her smile broadened and she threw herself at him in a squealy hug. Vlad squeezed her tight and sat her down gently, blushing slightly that his dad, uncle, and Nelly were still in the room.

  As if collecting herself from the trauma of hearing that Vlad was finally moving out of her house, Nelly took a deep breath and smiled at Snow. “Come on in, Snow dear, the cookies are just waiting to be frosted.”

  Something that Vlad had noticed about Nelly since he’d started dating Snow: she kept finding reasons for Snow to come over for a visit, which probably meant she liked Snow. This time they were frosting sugar cookies for a bake sale that Nelly had organized at the hospital. Something else he’d noticed: Nelly was very careful not to leave them alone together. Maybe she worried that Vlad would lose control of his hunger and hurt Snow. Maybe she worried about hickeys. Vlad had no idea. It was sweet, in its own way.

  Sweet, and only mildly annoying.

  Snow walked into the kitchen and Vlad followed, smiling. It was always good to see her, and amazing that she was his girlfriend. His actual girlfriend. His real, live, in the flesh, happy to hold his hand and frost stupid cookies with him girlfriend.

  Otis and his dad retired to the living room, and Nelly directed Vlad and Snow to the table in the kitchen, where Tupperware containers of unfrosted cookies were sitting. There had to be at least thirty large containers, and at least three hundred cookies. Vlad raised his eyebrows at Nelly. “I hope you’re not expecting perfection.”

  Snow nodded. “I hope you’re not expecting all of them to get frosted. They look delicious, Nelly.”

  Nelly smiled. “You can eat any cookies you break.”

  Vlad grinned and snapped a cookie in two, handing one half to Snow, who munched on it happily. Nelly clucked her tongue. “Vladimir!”

  Over the next two hours, Vlad and Snow frosted each cookie with white or red or green frosting, then sprinkled some with silver candy sprinkles and drew various pictures on the others with extra frosting in a tube. After a while, Vlad’s hand was cramping. Snow held up a cookie for him, one she’d decorated. The smirk on her face said it all, but what she’d written on the cookie sent Vlad into hysterics.

  The cookie was frosted white and written on it in red frosting were two words: Bite Me.

  Vlad wiped the tears from his eyes and, fighting another fit of hysterical giggles, said, “I’m not sure that sentiment would go over well at a charitable bake sale.”

  Snow shoved the cookie into Vlad’s mouth, frosting squishing out all over his lips. “I made it for you! I made it special!”

  Vlad chewed the cookie and swallowed it in a gulp, then reached for the green frosting and smeared a lump on Snow’s nose.

  Snow blinked at him, sitting there with a big glob of green on the end of her nose, looking like some mutated zombie form of Rudolph, and growled. “You. Are. Dead!”

  Snatching up a tube of red frosting, she squeezed it hard, pointing it right at him. Frosting squirted out and landed on his head. Vlad barely had time to react before Snow was rubbing it into his scalp.

  They were laughing so hard, and throwing so much frosting around, that they barely heard Nelly walk back into the room with a horrified gasp. “What have you done to my kitchen?”

  Vlad and Snow exchanged grins and tried hard to contain their laughter. Vlad said, “We’re sorry, Nelly. We’ll clean it up.”

  Before Nelly could ground him, Otis entered the room. With a glance at Vlad, who was covered in frosting from head to toe, he distracted Nelly with a kiss. “Darling, let’s go out to dinner. I’m sure Vladimir has everything under control and your kitchen will be good as new when we return.”

  Nelly threw up her hands in disgust. “Did you see—”

  “I did, and I’m certain Vladimir will scrub every inch before we get home.” Otis led Nelly from the room. With his thoughts, he said to Vlad, “If you don’t, she’ll murder you. You know that, right?”

  “I know. And I will. Promise.” Vlad smiled. But his smile was tinged with his ongoing suspicion of his uncle. He hadn’t confronted Otis yet. He’d wanted to ... but couldn’t summon up the bravery required.

  Not yet, anyway.

&nb
sp; Nelly paused, as if remembering she was about to leave Vlad alone with his girlfriend. “What about—”

  “Tomas will be here. It’s fine. Let’s go.” After a brief pause, Nelly finally let him lead her out the front door.

  An hour later, the kitchen was almost completely restored. Snow was scrubbing the table with a moist sponge. Vlad was wiping down the counters, his thoughts drifting to a place he’d hoped to avoid.

  There would be no more of this.

  No more frosting fights. No more Nelly’s wrath. No more hearing Snow’s laughter. No more silent conversations with Otis.

  No more anything, if he, Joss, and Henry didn’t find the journal fast.

  “Vlad?” Snow was watching him, her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”

  He wasn’t. And wouldn’t ever be again.

  When he didn’t answer, she dropped the sponge on the table, put a caring hand on his shoulder and asked, “Is everything all right?”

  Vlad cupped her hand and shook his head. “No, Snow. Everything isn’t all right. Everything is about as far from all right as it can get.”

  He reached out with his blood, but couldn’t detect his dad anywhere in the house. It took him a minute to remember that he couldn’t track his dad the way he could other vampires. But still, it seemed they were alone, for the moment. And it was time to tell Snow about Joss. Time to tell her that these were their final days together.

  He sat her down at the table, and after explaining everything—the Slayer Society, Joss, Henry, his trial, everything—he waited for her to respond. Unlike the conversation with Henry, Vlad felt compelled to tell her everything.

  Large, round tears spilled silently from her eyes. Then she hugged him tightly and whispered, “I’m glad you told me. I understand, I do. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish we had longer to be together. But ... I understand. Thanks for trusting me.”

  He hugged her tightly and held her for a long time, wishing that he was living some other life, in some other place, that he wasn’t causing Snow any pain.

  Somewhere where he was a normal teenager, with normal problems, and answers to the questions that were plaguing his every thought.