Ninth Grade Slays (2 page)

Both boys broke into hysterical laughter. Nelly chuckled and shook her head. “All right, smart mouth. I'm getting the mail. Henry, watch Vlad while I'm gone. He's a trouble-maker.”

Vlad's jaw dropped in mock exasperation. “Nelly!”

Nelly smiled sweetly. “I mean, he's a wonderful boy who brightens my day and makes life worth living.”

After she slipped out the front door, Vlad eyed the wicked glimmer in Henry's eye suspiciously. “What?”

Henry's grin broadened. “Did you call Meredith yet?”

Vlad straightened his shoulders proudly. “Twice, actually.”

Henry watched him for a moment, the surprise in his eyes quickly giving way to suspicion. “You talked to her?”

Talk to her? Vlad hadn't yet figured out a way to remove the lump that had taken up residence in his throat ever since she'd leaned in for a kiss after the Freedom Fest dance and he'd backed away, babbling like some kind of deranged lunatic. Talking to her was the least of his problems. First he needed to figure out how to breathe whenever she was near.

Vlad slowly stretched his hand out and picked up his mug, then took a long drink before returning it to the table. When he was finished, he met Henry's eyes and sighed. “Nope. Hung up both times. I think she heard me breathing once though.”

“That's progress.” Henry sighed. “You know she has caller ID, right?”

Vlad's eyes grew wide. There it was again, that lump in his throat. “She does?”

Henry answered with a tone of indifference. “Yeah. But dude, check this out.” He grinned wickedly and lowered his voice to a tone of conspiracy. “Last night, Greg told me something interesting about the upperclassmen girls.”

Vlad leaned up against the counter and tried to act like he wasn't completely curious. “Interesting? Like how?”

Henry leaned closer. “He says that if you can get invited to one of the senior parties, that some of those girls take pity on the lower classmen and they'll—”

Aunt Nelly walked into the kitchen. In one hand was a stack of envelopes, in the other was a small brown box. She glanced at their frozen, startled expressions and raised an eyebrow. “What are you boys talking about?”

They answered in one wavering voice, “Nothing!”

Vlad eyed the envelopes hopefully. “Anything from Otis?”

Nelly sighed and shook her head as she flipped through the stack. “Honestly, Vladimir. Your uncle has written to you at least once a week since the day he left Bathory. Do you really think he'd forget about you now?” She pulled a thick parchment envelope from the pile and held it out to him with a smile.

Vlad sighed in relief. He'd only just met his uncle last year, after a horrible misunderstanding. Vlad had no idea Otis was his uncle at the time, instead believing him to be a maniacal substitute teacher, out to expose Vlad's secret and quite possibly kill him. It was a simple mistake—anyone could have made it. Instead, Otis had been protecting him from D'Ablo, the president of an Elysian council, who was determined to find Vlad and punish him for the crime of existing.

Apparently, vampires aren't really big on the idea of humans and vampires having kids together.

Ever since Otis had left town in order to flee from Elysia and away from vampirekind, Vlad and Otis had exchanged many letters. In them, Otis had taught him how to read the vampiric language, otherwise known as Elysian code, and had urged him to practice his telepathy daily. Vlad was grateful for all of these things.

Of course, Otis had also recently encouraged Vlad to work on controlling the minds of others. Vlad was intrigued—there was no doubt about that. But there was one aspect that Otis hadn't thought about. What if Vlad got caught? The ability to control the thoughts and actions of other people could hardly be blamed on your normal, everyday teenage hormones.

Still . . . it might make algebra easier to pass.

But rather than explain his fear of being discovered, Vlad had written his uncle several weeks ago and insisted that he was incapable of controlling the minds of others, hoping that Otis would accept it as a lost cause and move on to some of the stealthier abilities of the undead. Like animorphing . . . or maybe luring females with a glance.

He tore open the envelope and after squinting at Otis's crooked handwriting for a moment—it always took him some time to adjust his eyes—he read.

Dearest Vladimir
,

I hope this letter finds you well. To answer your most recent questions: (1) No
,
there has been no further word from Elysia concerning you or your father. However
,
you must remember that I am no longer privilegedto information concerning the legal procedures of the Stokerton council. All of my information is hearsayand
,
therefore
,
not completely reliable. (2) Your aunt is right to be so “overprotective” and insist that you go nowhere alone. You may be a fearsome creatureof the night
,
Vladimir
,
but you are also a teenager and
,
by definition
,
her ward. Besides
,
it is possible that Elysia may decide to exact vengeance for your murder of their president last year . . . despite the fact that it was self-defense. (3) I'm sorry
,
Vladimir
,
but the rumor
that vampires are able to charm women with a leeringgaze is utterly ridiculous and completely false. Have you tried simply asking Meredith if she likes you? In my experience
,
the direct approach works best. Calling a girl and breathing into the phone never got anyone a date. Whatever you decide
,
remember to be a gentleman.

As promised
,
I am enclosing further instructions on how to best develop your telepathic skills. It surprises me that you have had only minimal success with this trait
,
as you should be able to read the minds of anyoneyou wish
,
but we must both remember that you are the first of your kind
,
Vladimir
,
and things will likely be different for you. When vampires are made
,
there is a natural order to their skill development
,
but you . . . you were born
,
and as such
,
we cannot be certainwhich traits you will inherit from your father's vampire nature
,
and which you will not
,
due to your mother's human DNA. We must deal with each of these skills as it presents itself.

Follow the enclosed instructions and practice
,
practice
,
practice! However
,
as your former teacher
,
I must insist that you refrain from using your telepathy as a means to better grades. And yes
,
I'll know. Trust me.

As for the issues you seem to be having with mind control
,
give me time to compose some helpful tips
regarding this skill. Together
,
we'll find a way to make this possible. Your father was quite adept at doingthis. I confess that it surprises me that you may not be. But please know that I am not disappointed in the least.

You are always in my thoughts
,
Vlad. Please take care of yourself. Be mindful of your surroundings
,
and please continue to study Elysian code. I know the vampirelanguage is challenging to read
,
but it is important that you memorize the
Compendium of Conscentia
. According to the phrase coined by the notable humanphilosopher George Santayana
,
“Those who cannotremember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

Yours in Eternity
,

Vlad ran his fingers over Otis's closing.
Yours in Eternity
. It was the same closing his dad had used in every note, every book, every birthday card, he'd ever given to Vlad. Vlad felt the looming shadow of grief sweep over him again. The death of a loved one is funny like that. It doesn't matter how much you grieve or how much time has passed, the littlest reminder of the person who died—a scent, an object, a word—can send you back to the moment you lost them, and before you can blink, you're overcome by the aching sadness you worked so hard to leave behind.

It was pretty disheartening to learn that dueling to the death last year against D'Ablo might set vampire society on his heels, despite the fact that D'Ablo had started the whole mess in the first place and Vlad had only blown a hole through him with the Lucis to avoid having D'Ablo rip one through him with his bare hands. But Vlad could deal with that. After all, thanks to Otis, Elysia thought Vlad was human, not half-vampire. Of course, Otis had said that what with Vlad possessing the Lucis, the most dangerous weapon against vampirekind, Elysia was pretty anxious to agree that he was human, to deny the notion that he was even remotly capable of hurting them, giving them little reason to chase after Vlad.

It was frustrating to learn that his uncle had absolutely no sensible advice regarding Vlad's current situation with the girl he liked. He thought about asking Nelly for her input, but the last thing he needed was a two-hour conversation about when Nelly was a teenager.

Vlad sighed. It was hopeless. How was he ever going to explain to Meredith that he had no idea why he hadn't kissed her after Freedom Fest dance last year, and that the only reason he hadn't returned her calls over the summer was that she would ask him to explain his inaction . . . and he couldn't. How was he supposed to explain something to her that even he didn't understand?

“What did he say?” Henry peered over Vlad's shoulder at the parchment.

Vlad folded the letter and shoved it back in the envelope, then withdrew the instructions. “He says to tell Nelly hi and that he's enclosed some tips on telepathy.”

Nelly smiled warmly and blushed, then glanced at her watch and sighed. She shook her head and reached for her purse. On her way out the door, she called behind her, “I'm late. I was supposed to take Deb's shift at the hospital this afternoon. Can you boys fend for dinner?”

The door closed before they could answer.

Henry nodded toward Otis's instructions. “You wanna try something out? I've been dying to know if Melissa Hart likes me.”

Vlad folded the notes up and slipped them in his back jeans pocket. “I want to study the notes first for a few days. Maybe we'll try something this weekend.”

Henry groaned. “Come on! I'm busy this weekend. Joss, remember?”

“I want to read them first.”

“So read them. Then we can head over to the mall in Stokerton. Melissa is doing that ‘end of summer/fall fashion' show they do every year, and you—”

“Henry, I said no.” Vlad's eyes were fixed on Henry. His tone was stern.

Henry nodded slowly and reached for his orange juice.

Drudge or not, Vlad hated giving Henry direct orders, and he only did it if Henry was being too pushy about something Vlad didn't feel like doing or discussing . . . or if Vlad really wanted a Pepsi, but he really didn't feel like going into the kitchen to get one. Other than that, their vampire/vampire's-human-slave relationship was working out pretty well. It was astounding how well Henry had taken the news that with one bite, he'd become Vlad's drudge.

But then, maybe Henry had only taken it so well because Vlad had told him to.

The thought made Vlad shiver. He didn't like the idea of controlling Henry's actions. Truthfully, it creeped him out a little. But sometimes Henry could be so pushy.

Vlad flipped over the box and, spying his name on the label, proceeded to pop the flaps open. His lips spread into a grin, and he looked at Henry. “You wanna play
Race to Armageddon 2
?”

Henry gasped at the game box in Vlad's hands. “No way!”

Vlad flipped the game over and looked at the screen shots. “They say it's twice the action, three times the gore.”

Exchanging maniacal grins, they bolted for the living room.

Two hours, a bag of Doritos, seven Pepsis, and four bags of blood later, Vlad and Henry sat their controllers down and stretched. Henry's eyes were wide with awed disgust. “That's so gross. I love it!”

“No doubt. It's so cool that the androids can fly now.” Vlad drained his Pepsi and sat the empty can on the coffee table. His stomach rumbled.

Henry furrowed his brow. “What's with the alien king having six heads? That's new. He's gonna be tough to beat this time.”

“They really added a lot of blood. Speaking of which . . .” Vlad retrieved another bag of blood from the refrigerator. As he was walking back into the living room, he let his fangs elongate—his hunger was pulsing beneath them. He bit through the bag and drained it, then let out a burp and wiped the excess from the corners of his mouth.

Henry chuckled. “Pig.”

Vlad snickered. “ 'Scuse me.”

Henry bit his lip thoughtfully for a moment. His tone became careful and serious. “Do you think you'll ever start feeding on people?”

Vlad shook his head. “No way. Not in a million years.” He eyed Henry for a moment with his peripheral vision before facing him. “You actually think I'd do that?”

“Well, you
did
bite me when we were eight.”

Vlad flashed Henry an incredulous look. “Dude, we were
eight
. Besides, you told me to.”

Henry pretended not to hear him. “And just now, before you bit into that bag, your eyes changed that weird iridescent purple the way they do when you touch a glyph.” Henry nodded to the strange symbol on the cover of the
Encyclopedia Vampyrica
and shrugged. “I'm just saying it's possible. I mean, what if the bags and snack packs aren't enough anymore?”