Third Strike

To Gwen Kelley, who's taught me to be strong and who's shown me that good things come to those who keep moving forward

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Copyright © 2014 by Heather Brewer

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Brewer, Heather. • Third strike/Heather Brewer. • pages cm.—(The Slayer chronicles; 3)

Summary: Joss is given a mission to eradicate vampires in his home town of Santa Carla, where he will need to protect his family, including cousin Henry, who still carries a grudge. • ISBN 978-1-101-59338-7 • [1. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Family life—California—Fiction. 3. California—Fiction. 4. Horror stories.] I. Title.

PZ7.B75695Thi 2014 [Fic]—dc23 2013014215

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Writing a book isn't easy. Writing a series is even less easy. And writing two series that coincide, like The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod and The Slayer Chronicles, is next to impossible. It's an effort that's required an incredible team of incredible people, and now that these stories are coming to a close, I want to send my heartfelt thanks to all of you for helping me move from the eighth grade, all the way to London and beyond, from the discovery of Elysia, to the oppressive shadows of the Slayer Society. Without you, this world might not have existed anywhere outside of my imagination. So thank you.

Michael Bourret—You are the best agent on the planet, and I am deeply indebted to you for all of the wonderful advice, guidance, and support that you've given me. You're a good friend, a great partner, and I wouldn't have come this far without you and all that you do. Here's to the future—may it be dark, stormy, and spooky, but only in all of the right ways.

Maureen Sullivan and Liz Waniewski—You were both such amazing editors. So patient, so brilliant. Thank you for helping me share Vlad and Joss with my Minions in the way that they deserved. I've learned so much from both of you, and send you nothing but love and gratitude.

All of the school and library, marketing and publicity folks at Penguin Young Readers—You got my books into the hands of my Minions. Without your thoughtful outreach and hard work, so many of the Minion Horde wouldn't have found themselves in Vlad or Joss. I appreciate all that you've done, and send you chocolate chip cookies . . . and maybe a steaming mug or two of AB negative.

The amazing art team at PYR and the incomparable Christian Fuenfhausen—You gifted me with the coolest covers and most FANGtastic mascot on the planet. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I owe you big-time.

Paul, Jacob, and Alexandria Brewer—Life is a lot like a book series. Some lives are like two book series that coincide. There are a ton of twists and turns, and sometimes it feels like the plot points will never come together just right. But if you stay true to those core characters, if you believe in the central story, you'll find your way through. The three of you—the four of us—always help me find my way through anything that I face. I have existed in the darkness and in the light, but no matter where I have been or how I have felt at the time, you've always been there for me. You are all that matters in my world. And I am blessed to have you. Thank you for being my everything, and for helping me to move forward with my dreams.

Last, but never least, my Minion Horde—We've come a long way, Minions. You've trusted me and followed me to Elysia and back, and for that, I am immeasurably grateful. But I'm afraid I must ask you to follow me further, into unexplored territory now. And trust me once again.

You see, when I began writing The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod, I set out to reach a goal. I wanted to feel better about having been bullied in school, about feeling like such a freak in a world of so-called “normal” people. It seemed like an impossible thing to do, but I accomplished that goal. I wrote great books about a twisted vampire world—books that led me to another world, a world of Slayers and stakes and secrets. I discovered new things about myself, and I hope that you did as well. Because once those stories were printed on pages and glued into a cover, they became
your
stories. It became
your
world to explore and enjoy. Since that time, so many of you have created amazing fanfic tales about the characters that I created. And I love that. Please keep going. Because through you, Vlad and Joss live on into eternity. Through you, Henry keeps crackin' jokes at inappropriate times and Snow keeps being strong. Through you, Eddie Poe keeps being hungry for power, and Cecile keeps Joss's nights interesting. These books, this world, will never cease to exist. Because of you, Minions. Because of you.

But these are not the only stories I have to share with you. So take my hand, Minions. Go on, crowd in and squeeze my hand as hard as you need to. Because we're moving into a place where we haven't been before, a world beyond Vladimir Tod and Joss McMillan. But I'm here for you and always will be. Let's move forward together.

E
m carefully lifted the teapot from its place on the doily and poured the steaming blood into two ornate china cups. The color of the burgundy blood against the white of the china was bold and interesting, Em noted. Not like the color of blood soaked into a rug or spattered against the curtains. Perhaps it was the purity of both things, blood and china, she thought, that appealed to her in such a comforting way.

One cup had been placed in front of Em, and the other in front of her guest, who sat in the shadowed quiet of Em's parlor. Em offered her guest some sugar, but she politely declined. Em plopped three cubes into her cup, marveling at the crystallized sugar cubes as they melted away into the blood, and sat back with a sigh, content to blow the steam from her cup of AB negative—something an old friend had once described to her as the champagne of blood types.

“How exactly will you arrange for him to be alone?” The girl's words were softly spoken, and Em couldn't help but wonder whether or not she was up to the task. After all, it wasn't as if this boy, this Slayer called Joss McMillan, were someone easily disregarded. He was skilled. A dangerous quality for any human with a blood thirst for vampires. He had to be dealt with, and quickly. Em just hoped that she wasn't choosing poorly by sending this girl to do him in. Though her advantage was obvious, she was still young.

Very young, in comparison to her youthful-looking host.

Em sipped from her cup, and as she returned it to its saucer on the table, she dabbed at her lips with a napkin before placing the napkin in her lap. Not many were subjected to this old-world side of Em—the ladylike grace and appreciation of finer things. Not many often saw beyond her youthful appearance of wild colored hair and gothic-style clothing. Few had ever been invited into her parlor, but here she was, with this girl, debating whether or not the girl had what it takes to face an enemy of skill. She was very new to vampire life, as it were. Young, naive, and certainly not well trained. Em wondered if she should have just killed Joss herself, but the thought passed quickly through her mind before it disappeared once again. No. This was the right killer for Joss—the girl had a reluctant hunger inside of her to take the boy's life. And the boy clearly had a reluctance in him to face her. Hunting him down herself was a recipe for disaster, in Em's eyes. Em didn't hunt down the majority of those who have wronged her. She had people for that. People like this promising new protégée. “Everything's been arranged. Have you been in recent contact with your drudge?”

The girl picked up her cup at last and took a healthy drink, wincing as she burned her tongue. She nodded as she bit into a thin wafer cookie in an effort to soothe her mouth. Through a mouthful of cookie, she said, “I have. My drudge stands at the ready to assist me.”

Em wrinkled her nose at the girl's lack of manners. Truth be told, she'd killed kings and queens for less. But she liked this girl, this newborn vampire, for reasons that she could not yet identify. And so she let the girl live. For now, anyway. “I trust you know what will happen to you both if you fail to take the young Slayer's life?”

Her hands strangely steady, her voice oddly confident, the girl looked at Em and said with a tone that conveyed that she was well aware of what was at stake here, “If I don't kill Joss, you'll kill us both.”

“Wrong.” Em's lips curled into a cruel, sadistic smile. “If you fail in your task, I won't just kill you both. I'll obliterate your remains and lick your blood from my walls.”

There was a pause—a distinct one—before the girl responded. But when she did, her voice sounded just as confident, just as driven as Em had been hoping it would. She returned her cup to its saucer and reached for another cookie. As the sweet treat reached her lips, she smiled in a way that mirrored Em. “Don't worry. I'm looking forward to taking Joss's life away. He deserves it for what he did to me.”

Em released a breath in a soft sigh, settling back in her chair, satisfied. Her eyes moved casually over the walls of her suite. “That's good to hear, young one. Because I rather do like this wallpaper. It would be a shame to have to replace it.”