Eighth Grade Bites (10 page)

On the back wall of the closet was a symbol similar to the one that was on the front of his father's book. Vlad reached forward to touch it, and it glowed. Vlad paused. “Do me a favor and touch that symbol.”

“I don't see what the point—”

“Just do it, Henry.”

Henry slapped his hand against the symbol.

Nothing happened.

It didn't glow, didn't flicker or flash or anything. Vlad reached for it again, and again it glowed. “Must be a vampire thing.” Pushing forward, he touched the tips of his fingers to the wood. The glyph glowed even brighter and the panel slid open.

Henry was leaning over his shoulder. “How'd you do that?” “I have no idea.” Vlad peered into the space and withdrew a book, long and thin, with the same symbol on its cover. Beneath it was embossed
The Chronicles of Tomas Tod
. Vlad flipped to the first page in his father's journal and read.
I had never intended to fall in love with Mellina.
Vlad read over his father's handwriting twice more before settling in his father's chair and continuing aloud.

The entry ended two-thirds of the way down the yellowed page. Vlad closed the book and hugged it to his chest.

Henry shuffled his feet, apparently uncomfortable over Vlad's discovery. “We should get back. My mom will be wondering where we've been all day.” Outside, the sky had turned a rich purple as the sun made its descent.

Vlad followed him out the door. Neither spoke all the way to Henry's house. When they stepped inside, they were greeted by the smell of chocolate and cookie dough. Henry's mom was baking again. Vlad smiled at the flash of apron from the kitchen.

“Hello, boys!” Henry's mom, Matilda, had never failed to greet them with a singsongy voice, full of brightness and cheer. Vlad loved it, but the sound of her voice made Henry's eye twitch. Vlad glanced at Henry, and yep, it was twitching already. But not nearly as much as it did when she referred to Henry as “we.”

“Hey, Mom.” Henry brushed past her, toward the smell of sugary treats. He was only gone a moment, just long enough for Vlad to exchange smiles with Matilda. When he returned, he handed Vlad a cookie.

Matilda eyed Henry suspiciously. “And where have we been all day, young man?”

Henry's eye twitched again. He lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “You know, out and about.”

At first she didn't look as though she believed her son was capable of innocence, but then she dried her hands on her apron and smiled warmly. “Well, you boys had better wash up for dinner.”

Vlad shot Henry a look, but he was already offering up the usual excuse. “Vlad already ate, Mom.” In protest, Vlad's stomach rumbled. Safely tucked inside Vlad's backpack were two bags of blood. It couldn't be easy for Henry to keep Vlad's secret, especially from his family, but he did it anyway.

Some humans were so cool.

Matilda turned back to the kitchen and called over her shoulder, “Honestly, Vladimir, I'm not that terrible a cook. You don't have to eat before you come over.”

“He just has a picky appetite, Mom.” Henry winked at Vlad and grinned, the tension of the day behind them at last.

Later that night, as Henry lay snoring on his bed, Vlad wriggled out of his sleeping bag and opened his dad's journal. He read with a flashlight until his eyelids felt so heavy that he could barely hold them open anymore, but decided to read just one more entry before giving up the fight against sleep.

Vlad read the passage again and paused to reflect on the word
Elysia
. He had no idea what it meant, but the tone of his dad's words raised more than a few of the hairs on the back of his neck. His dad had sounded frightened.