The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills (7 page)

“It needed a lot of work after staying empty for so long.” Vlad’s words were curt, but he didn’t mean for them to be. He was just so angry that all of this time he’d been led to believe that his dad was dead, and yet here he was, alive and in the flesh. And it didn’t help that his dad just wouldn’t get to the point. “So about that explanation ...”

Tomas met his eyes before releasing a troubled sigh. “I suppose I should begin with the day I disappeared, and your mother ... your mother ...”

Vlad swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from his father’s eyes. The sorrow there was almost too much for him to bear. “So Mom really is dead?”

His dad nodded, a heavy air about him. After he did so, Vlad nodded too, a familiar ache forming at the center of his chest. He’d known for years that his mom was gone forever, but seeing his dad again had sparked the hope that maybe, just maybe, it had all been a horrible misunderstanding. Foolish, he knew, but no amount of reason or good sense could have doused the spark of hope within him.

“I awoke that morning to find that my alarm clock had been turned off, as had your mother’s. That was good of you, Vlad, to want us to sleep in, to show us that you were more than capable of getting yourself off to school on your own.” He looked at Vlad, an apology lurking in his eyes that would not leave his lips, not until he’d explained everything he needed to. Still, Vlad appreciated seeing it there, knowing that it was coming soon enough. “I slipped out of bed, leaving Mellina still resting, and stole away to Stokerton. It had become common for me to spy on Elysia, you see, and more common still for me to do so without telling your mother. So I left. Unable to resist the urge of being near vampirekind. I’m sure you’ve realized since you’ve come to know Vikas and your uncle that being away from our kind for too long is painful.”

It was painful. Vlad hated being away from his uncle for very long, and it hurt beyond hurt to leave Siberia a few years ago. He absolutely understood the loss of Elysia.

“So, I left. When I returned home hours later, my need for vampire contact satisfied for the moment, I saw smoke billowing out of my bedroom window and Nelly cradling you in her arms in the front yard. I knew that what had happened could only be my fault.”

It was his fault. He’d said it. Whatever it was that had happened, whatever it was that had taken his mom away from him, it was his dad’s fault. Not Vlad’s.

Not Vlad’s.

Vlad watched him, waiting, a strange sense of relief filling him.

Tomas sat on the arm of the couch, his forehead lined with tension and guilt. When he finally resumed speaking, it was with a hushed tone. “It’s no secret that I am a wanted man in Elysia, or was, before my presumed death.”

“You were after too.” His dad shot him a glance, and Vlad said, “I mean, lots of vampires didn’t believe you were actually dead.”

Tomas sighed. “Ahh... This is true, son. But what you may not know is that I am also wanted by another group, though they are also vampires. A secret society who believe that one day a vampire will be born, not made.”

Vlad tensed. His voice was gruff. “You’re talking about the Pravus.”

With a nod, Tomas said, “This group believes that he—you—will lead them in a revolt against the nonbelievers and that you will lift vampirekind to its proper place, where we live openly amongst the humans and feed on them at will. These vampires ... they are the reason your mother is dead, and they are the reason that I disappeared that day and have stayed hidden for these seven years. They were there watching when I got home that day, among the crowd. That is why I couldn’t come to you until now. That is why I had to leave the moment I did. I had to run, Vlad. I had to hide. If there was any hope of my keeping you alive, it was in my keeping my distance from you. If I’d stayed in contact with you, I shudder to think of the painful death it would have brought you.”

“Why did you come to me now? And why wait for so long after that night in the clearing? You could have told me all of this then? Why wait? Why make me wait?”

Tomas paused then, a look of trepidation crossing his features, as if what he was about to say next was difficult for him. “Every vampire I have come into contact with since that day has been killed, and I myself have only barely escaped death by their hands a number of times. After seeing you that night I questioned whether or not I was doing the right thing. By the time I’d decided that I was, you’d begun searching for me with other people. I really wanted our first conversation to be just between the two of us.”

Vlad took this in and then nodded slowly. It made sense, he supposed. In a really stupid way. “That group you mentioned? I’ve heard of them, actually.”

Tomas raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Vlad cleared his throat. “Why do they want you dead?”

“When you were born, I knew something was amiss. Vampires don’t bear children. It just doesn’t happen. There have been others who have broken the law of separation in the hopes that they might be able to bring about the Pravus. I broke the law for love. Perhaps that is what made your birth possible. However, we knew that your very existence would give that group special interest in you. That’s why your mother and I stole away to Bathory—so that we could raise you in peace, and so that I could discover the reason for your existence. Through spying on Elysia and stealing away into their libraries, I hoped to know everything I could about this prophecy. While the word Pravus is spelled simply enough, its meaning is far more complex. There were theories in the books I read, but they were just theories, nothing concrete that stated exactly why the Pravus would come.” A far away expression came into his eyes. Then, as if coming back to the present, he continued. “Through my trials, I learned the truth. The Pravus—you. my son—will bring peace to the world. You will unite us all and rule over all with your good sense and generosity traits that I know you are well acquainted with. But the members of this group ... this secret society ... they seek to use you for their selfish gain. They tried to kill me to stop me from revealing what I know to the world and to you. They will try again. We can trust no one, Vlad. Their group is full of liars and con men.”

Vlad listened for a moment, filled with so many questions, but first, he had to know. “Who was in the bed with Mom? How did the fire start?”

“I don’t know. I can only assume it was one of the vampires who were after me. And I don’t know how the fire started.”

“This group. D’Ablo was part of them.”

“Was?” His dad raised a sharp eyebrow, curiosity ebbing from him.

Vlad shook his head. “Dead now.”

“D’Ablo ...” Tomas rolled the name over on his tongue, as if he hadn’t spoken it in years. Something crossed his eyes that looked like regret, or maybe loss. “I’ve known D’Ablo for nearly two centuries. He may have been ambitious and at times a fool, but I didn’t think he’d be involved with a group like that. You’re certain?”

Vlad nodded. “Positive. And Em.”

“I’ve known of Em’s involvement for some time. However, hers is more of a position to guarantee that she is not supplanted as leader. She wants to prevent the coming of the Pravus more than anything. Anyone else?”

Vlad searched his memory, but no one else in his life came across as suspect. “Not that I know of.”

Tomas leaned closer and spoke with his thoughts—even though his words were locked safe inside Vlad’s mind, he whispered. “
Listen, Vlad. These vampires are sly and underhanded They could appear to be your best friend and you wouldn’t even know they were plotting against you. I need to know every vampire you’ve been in contact with since I left.”

“Besides D’Ablo and Em, there was the rest of the Council of Elders, a small group that met here at the house—I don’t know their names—and Jasik, but he’s dead now. There was Ignatius ...”
Vlad flicked his eyes to his father, guilt filling him. “I mean, my ... my grandfather. He’s also dead. Otis ... killed him. He had no choice. I’m sorry.”

“No need for guilty feelings, Vlad. He was an abysmal monster.” His dad squeezed his shoulder and smiled a small smile. Vlad relaxed some at the sight of that smile. “None of those sound like members. Hmmm ... perhaps they haven’t infiltrated your life. Can you think of anyone else? Someone close to you, perhaps, someone you feel you can trust?”

Vlad searched his memory, sighing. “Let’s see. There’s Vikas, of course. And the vampires in Siberia.”

“I trust Vikas completely. But others in Siberia ... well, let’s just keep an eye out for familiar faces, shall we?” Tomas looked troubled, but determined. “Anyone else?”

Vlad chewed his bottom lip for a moment before answering. “There was Dorian ..”

His dad’s eyes widened in instant shock. “Dorian? You ... met ... Dorian?’

Flashing through Vlad’s mind was every encounter that Vlad had ever had with Dorian. From their initial meeting, where Dorian had tried to force him to give his blood, to the strange conversations in the oddest places, to their last meeting, when Dorian had saved his life by sacrificing his own. Try as he might, he could not block out how Dorian’s blood had tasted on his tongue. He wet his lips and met his father’s gaze. “Um ... yeah. You could say that. You didn’t see him in the clearing that night, the night you came back?”

Tomas shook his head, filling Vlad with dread. Dread because he had to be the one to share the news—news which pained him and would forever. “He’s dead too.”

So much death, all surrounding him. Vlad’s heart sank as he wondered if those vampires would still be alive had they not come into contact with him.

Sometimes he felt like he was poison, infecting everyone around him.

“He jumped in between Joss and me, taking the stake for me. That’s why I was hitting Joss when you came up. I was going to kill him.”

“I know you were. I could see it in your eyes.”

“You stopped me. Why?” Vlad swallowed the ever-present lump in his throat. “I mean, Joss is just a Slayer, right? So why save his life? Why stop me from killing him?”

His dad grew quiet for a moment before speaking. “I stopped you because I thought if you’d killed the boy, you’d never forgive yourself.”

“For all you knew, we were enemies in combat.”

Tomas shook his head. “Wrong. Enemies don’t fight with such determined passion. That kind of focus is reserved for friends at odds with one another.”

After a long, silent moment—one filled with the realization that his dad still understood him, even after all of those years apart—Vlad sighed, returning to the former subject. “Anyway. That just leaves Otis, and Otis would never plot against me.”

There was a pause before Tomas spoke in a distracted, suddenly worried voice. “No... not Otis. He wouldn’t ...”

Frustrated, Vlad ran a hand through his hair. If what his dad was saying was right, his problems had only begun to surface. “What are we going to do?”

Tomas met his eyes. “I need my journal, Vlad. Within it, I’ve contained some useful tools that might help us. Where is it?”

“I think Joss has it. But there might be a problem getting it back. I forgot to grab it from his backpack in the clearing that night, and I couldn’t get it from him at the hospital. And now his parents have taken him away for the summer. So this could take some time.”

Tomas muttered an Elysian curse under his breath before patting Vlad reassuringly on the shoulder. “We’ll get it back. But for now, until we know who we can trust ... this is all between us, okay?”

The back screen door banged shut and Vlad and Tomas lifted their eyes to Otis as he moved through the kitchen. He paused when he saw them in the living room. Otis was frozen in place, his disbelieving eyes locked on Tomas.

The wondering silence stretched on forever.

Otis didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Then the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Tomas darted a glance at Vlad before turning awkwardly back to his brother. “Otis ... it’s ... it’s so good to see you.”

Otis stood there, silent as stone. Then he set his jaw and went back out the door, slamming it behind him. After a single heartbeat, Tomas followed.

Two heartbeats after that, Vlad strode out the door, determined not to be left behind.

Even though he knew that he hadn’t been invited to this conversation.

When he finally caught up to Otis, Tomas reached out, grabbed Otis by the sleeve. “Otis, stop. Let me explain.”

Seemingly against his own good sense, Otis stopped and looked back at his brother. “Explain what? Explain why Vlad has spent almost a decade without a father? Explain why you chose to let him feel guilty of your death all this time? How about you explain why the hell you decided to come back now, and why, rather than just coming out of the shadows, you’ve let that poor kid walk around here thinking he was crazy for seeing you that night in the clearing? Well, you’re clearly alive. You’re clearly back in Vlad’s life and I’m sure everything will be just great from now on. What more is there to explain?”

Vlad winced. He’d always known his uncle to be straightforward with his opinion, but those remarks were meant to burn. To bleed, even.

Tomas looked like he’d been slapped. “Perhaps why I left in the first place?”

Otis sighed. “I am in no mood for fairy tales, Tomas.”

Vlad looked at his uncle. “Did it ever occur to you that he might be telling the truth? You’ve already judged him, Otis. Without even hearing a word about why he was gone. Why not listen? Or are you afraid that you might do the unthinkable and forgive him?”

Otis held Vlad’s gaze wordlessly and Vlad didn’t need to ask why he wasn’t speaking. Otis was quiet because he knew that Vlad was right. And Vlad was right because he was afraid of the same thing, that he might forgive his father for causing him so much pain if he listened soundly to Tomas’s excuses. Only
he
was willing to work past it.