Twelfth Grade Kills Read online

  It spoke of his dad’s miraculous return and Otis’s strange reaction. But mostly, it spoke of Snow.

  In fact, it wouldn’t shut up about her.

  Every time he rolled over, closed his eyes, or breathed, an image would cross his mind. Piecing them together, he could see her as he’d left her the last time he saw her. He’d given her a rose, bitten her forcibly, and pushed her out of his life. At the time it had felt right to release Snow as his drudge, but ever since then, Vlad was weighed down by regret. And worse yet, he couldn’t think of the right way to apologize, the right way to plead for forgiveness and tell her how he felt. Mostly because he didn’t know how he felt. And that, coupled with thoughts about his dad, was keeping him awake. So he slipped quietly, unnoticed, from the house, and walked. And thought.

  His thoughts were jumbled.

  Vlad sighed and whipped his head around, looking for a street sign. He’d been walking so long that he’d forgotten which direction he’d been walking in.

  It was only then that he realized where he’d ended up.

  He stood there for a long, silent, uncertain moment, staring at the house, questioning whether or not he should knock. With a deep breath, he forced himself up the porch steps and, before he could stop himself, he raised his fist and knocked.

  No one would answer. After all, it was almost midnight now. And even if someone did answer, Vlad would have bet his life, that someone would be very large and very angry to see him.

  When the sound of movement inside reached his ears, he almost bolted, but held fast, despite his fear of having his limbs ripped from his body.

  He could do this. After all, he was in need of a friend.

  The door opened to reveal pink fuzzy slippers—they reminded Vlad of cotton candy—and an equally pink robe. Glittery pink lip gloss covered her lips still, as if she’d just begun getting ready for bed and hadn’t quite removed her makeup just yet.

  Surprise lit up Meredith’s eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but to Vlad’s relief, she wasn’t frowning or glaring either. “Hey ... Vlad. You’re out late. What’s up?”

  Vlad shoved his thumbs in his front pockets, dropping his eyes back down to her cotton candy slippers. “I ... was wondering if we could talk. I mean, I could really use someone to talk to. Is that ... is that okay?”

  It took him several seconds, but when he looked up, he saw Meredith was smiling. “Of course. Is the porch swing okay? More privacy out here.”

  A bit taken aback by surprise, Vlad nodded. Meredith moved past him and sat on the wooden porch swing, patting the seat next to her. Vlad followed and sat down, the wood creaking beneath his body, the chains squeaking some as the swing moved. He sat there for a long time, unsure of how to begin. Meredith remained silent.

  Finally, Vlad cleared his throat. “Something strange and kinda awesome has happened and I’m a little messed up about it.”

  He waited to see what Meredith had to say. When her only response was silence, he figured he should probably give her a little bit more information. He also figured he should talk about his dad and not Snow. “It turns out my dad survived the house fire a few years back. He’s . . . he’s back home now.”

  He looked at Meredith, at her hand finding her mouth open in shock. Then he nodded. “That’s pretty much how I reacted too. The thing is ... I thought I’d be happy to see him again. But mostly, I’m angry. And I feel really, really guilty for being so mad. I mean, he’s had it rough, what with losing my mom and then being so far away from me for so long. And then he comes back and his son is mad at him for being gone.”

  Meredith’s shock had eased some. She reached over and took Vlad’s hand in hers, her voice soft and caring, like he knew it would be. Some things you could just count on. “It’s okay to be angry, y’know. I mean, he disappeared for years. You thought he was dead, and then he shows up alive? I’d be angry too, I bet, if my dad did that.”

  Her hand was soft and warm, and Vlad really liked the way it felt in his.

  Maybe too much.

  She eyed him for a moment, a bit of sadness creeping into her eyes, as if she were thinking the same thing. Then she released his hand. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now. You must be freaking out. Has he said where he’s been all this time?”

  Vlad shook his head slowly, relieved that Meredith seemed to understand, relieved that it was okay that he was mad at his father for abandoning him. “He says he’s been all over the world, kind of on the run. But he says he only stayed away to protect me from something. Something awful.”

  “He must love you a lot.”

  “Maybe that’s why I feel so guilty about being angry with him.”

  “I’m not the smartest girl in the world, Vlad, but if I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: forgiveness is crucial. If you can’t forgive someone you’re mad at, that anger will poison you. You have to learn to let it go.” Her hand was in his once again. Soft, warm, and caring. Familiar. Right, even though it was wrong. “People have reasons for doing the things that they do, especially when they care about you. You may not always understand what they are, but if you can try to understand the person then you might see that they really care, despite what happened.”

  Vlad met her eyes then. With his peripheral vision, he could see fireflies glowing softly all around the porch. A slight breeze brushed a stray hair from her eyes, and the streetlight made her lip gloss shine slightly. When Vlad spoke, his voice was hushed, and he already knew the answer to his question, but had to ask it anyway. “Are we still talking about my dad?”

  The air between them warmed and before Vlad knew it, the space between them shrank. He wasn’t sure who moved first or if they moved in at the same time. He only knew that their lips met in a tender kiss, and that neither pulled away for several seconds.

  When they did part, however, a flash of guilt crossed Meredith’s eyes.

  Guilt because she had a thing for Joss, the way Joss had a thing for her.

  Guilt because she and Vlad were over.

  Something struck Vlad that hadn’t before. The kiss, while perfectly nice, hadn’t made his toes curl, hadn’t sent his heart into that fluttery rhythm, hadn’t made him dizzy with happiness the way it had before.

  Because Vlad had known better kisses. Kisses from a girl called Snow.

  Amazing, endearing, heartfelt kisses. Kisses that he had been missing not just with his lips, but with his very soul.

  Mulling this over, Vlad wiped her lip gloss from his lips with the back of his hand. Vampires, after all, didn’t sparkle.

  Meredith stayed quiet for a long time. Vlad wasn’t sure what to say to break the tension between them. Finally, as if pretending that the kiss hadn’t happened—which was probably for the best—she said, “Vlad ... I’m really glad you came here tonight. We’re friends, right? We can talk about stuff. Stuff that’s on our minds. Stuff that bothers us. Can’t we?”

  Vlad shrugged, his thoughts still on Snow. Snow’s lips. Snow’s porcelain skin. Snow’s undeniably wonderful everything. “Of course.”

  Meredith took a deep breath and furrowed her brow, her fingers curling over the edge of the wooden swing. “Okay, so look ... I know that you probably don’t like Joss very much...”

  Vlad snapped his eyes to her in a warning—a warning that this subject was definitely off-limits—but she persisted. “But he’s really concerned about you. He sent me this e-mail, mentioned that you’d gotten in a fight—”

  Vlad stood and moved across the porch, throwing his goodbyes over his shoulder. “It was nice talking with you, Meredith. I’ve gotta go, but ... I’ll see you around, okay?”

  Meredith stood and followed him to the edge of the porch. As Vlad moved down the steps to the sidewalk, she spoke again. “Just so you know, I’m not mad anymore. Not about how you broke up with me.”

  Vlad’s steps slowed. This he hadn’t expected at all. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, turning back to face her. “You’re not?”

  Meredi
th shook her head, a soft brown curl falling to her cheek. Her eyes were full of reason and sensibility—two qualities Vlad truly believed he didn’t possess. “I’m sure you had your reasons, and whatever they were, they must’ve been pretty important.”

  Vlad swallowed hard, not exactly anxious to discuss what his reasons were. After all, he’d tried that once at the Snow Ball, and it backfired big-time. There would be no telling Meredith the truth. Not again. She’d proven that she couldn’t handle hearing it. He dropped his gaze to his shoes for a moment. “They were.”

  She grew quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her lips trembled slightly. “Are you still going out with that girl ... the one you brought to the Snow Ball?”

  A hot pain flashed across Vlad’s chest. One of immense loss. Snow. Oh, how he missed her. He shook his head, wondering where this conversation was going, but hoping for a drastic change in subject. “Not really. We don’t talk much anymore.

  He didn’t mention that they didn’t talk much because Vlad was avoiding her at all costs out of fear he might hurt her ... or worse, love her so completely that he couldn’t stay away from her. Not to mention that he didn’t know how to apologize for the way he’d left her.

  Some things, he figured, were best left unsaid.

  “Vlad ...” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes large and sad. “... about what you said to me that night. You were ... you were just kidding around, right? About being a ... a vampire?”

  Vlad’s heart sank. It was here—his moment, the perfect time to admit his deepest secret to Meredith once again, to let her know who and what he really was. She’d asked him. All he had to do was confirm it.

  But he couldn’t. It would shatter her. Even now, he could see the pleading in her eyes, pleading with him to take it all away, make it not so, give her back the world she thought she lived in.

  Vlad sighed, and shook his head, slipping his hands inside his pockets and dropping his gaze to the ground. His voice was barely a whisper in the night. “Yeah. It was nothing. Just a joke.”

  The night shrank in around him, making him feel small, insignificant, stupid. All he wanted was to tell her the truth. He couldn’t even get that right.

  Meredith’s voice was quiet, soft, tinged with a hint of surprise, as if she’d expected him to tell her the opposite of what he had. “Oh.”

  He looked at her then, and not for the first time wondered what Joss had told her about his nighttime activities, and about Vlad. He took a deep breath and pushed all of his questions deep down inside of him. Some things he could not bring himself to tell, and some things he could not bring himself to ask.

  With a heavy sigh, he met her gaze. “Good night, Meredith.”

  She nodded, as if he’d answered her question with his less than forthcoming reply. “Good night, Vlad.”

  11

  FAMILY

  THE TEMPERATURE HAD DROPPED SOME, hinting that summer was on its way out already, and autumn was just around the corner. Which meant that school was also just around the bend. School. Full of tests and books and teachers and the dull doldrums of Vlad’s senior year.

  On the upside, there were also dances, lunchtime goofery, and the general bliss of knowing that, assuming he passed all of his classes, it was his last year at Bathory High. His final moments. Which meant saying goodbye—something that Vlad was experienced at. Something he had been preparing for, for many years.

  After all, he’d known better than many of the kids he went to school with what it meant to say goodbye. To Vlad, saying goodbye was a painful, sometimes impossible thing to do.

  But for now, he pushed thoughts of school away and looked at his dad, who was standing at his side, staring down at all that was left of Mellina’s memory. The tombstone’s inscription lied about who was buried there, including his father’s name only because he and Nelly had made an assumption. But the truth, the truth of her name, stood out like a deep, dark shadow on the pale gray of the headstone. MELLINA TOD: BELOVED MOTHER AND WIFE, GONE FOREVER. Sure, the inscription didn’t read that. But it might as well have.

  Beside him, his father stared sorrowfully at Mellina’s grave. No tears fell, but Vlad could tell he’d shed more than a few already over the loss of his wife.

  Clearing his throat, Vlad said, “Do you think she’d be proud of me?”

  Tomas didn’t miss a beat. “Immensely proud. Without a doubt.”

  Vlad sighed, brushing the bangs from his eyes. “I barely squeak by my math classes. I can’t keep a girlfriend. I’m not exactly Mr. Popularity. Do you think she’d care about any of that?”

  His dad shook his head, his eyes still on Mellina’s headstone. “Not even for a second. Your mother would be very proud of the man you’re becoming, Vlad.”

  Vlad swallowed hard, hesitating for a moment before he spoke. “Are you?”

  The hint of a smile touched his lips as he met Vlad’s eyes. “Absolutely.”

  Vlad felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders, from his soul.

  His dad was proud of him. Despite everything. Despite all of his flaws. Despite his initial anger at Tomas’s return.

  The world swirled before Vlad’s eyes. Instantly, he was transported into a waking movie, the same way he had been right after he’d drank from Dorian. He saw himself at Nelly’s house, standing behind his father, behind Otis, who all looked intensely angry. Nelly was off to the side, her eyes wide, terrified. Standing in front of them were two vampires, their fangs exposed. The tall, thin vampire growled, “... come with us now, or we will kill your human.”

  His eyes moved to Nelly and the vision went away just as quickly as it had come, swirling down the imaginary drain it had slithered up. Vlad’s heart rammed against his chest.

  When he came back to the cemetery, back to reality, he was lying on the ground. His father was looking at him with frightened eyes, as if Vlad had simply crumpled to the ground without warning. Vlad jumped to his feet and took off toward Nelly’s house, dragging his dad by the sleeve. “We have to get to Nelly! There are vampires there. Nelly’s in danger!”

  They both broke into a run, but not before Tomas said, “How do you know, Vlad? How do you know that’s true?”

  An image passed through Vlad’s mind—Dorian, wise, dangerous Dorian, lying bleeding, dying at the hand of Joss. Vlad had drunk his blood because Dorian insisted, and it had changed him forever. It had given him visions—two now—of the future.

  But he said none of this. Instead, he said, “I just know, okay? Now let’s move.”

  Vlad raced ahead, the wind whipping through his hair as he ran. He didn’t think about any of his fellow Bathory residents or what they might think if they saw him moving with such incredible, inhuman speed. He only thought of Nelly, and how he was going to protect her from the vampires in his vision.

  When they arrived at the house, Vlad moved up the steps and through the front door in one fluid motion. Two men, two vampire men, were sitting on the sofa, looking expectantly at the door as Vlad stepped inside. Otis was standing in the living room, looking paler than usual. Nelly stood in the archway near the stairs, a confused and frightened look in her eyes. The secret of Vlad’s trial and sentencing wasn’t secret from her anymore. His dad stepped in behind him and when he saw the vampires Vlad had predicted, he cast his son a nervous glance.

  Vlad glared at the newcomers. “What do you want?”

  The taller, thinner vampire stood, his jaw set. “Em sent us to ask about your progress in locating your father.”

  The shorter vampire, who was kind of stocky, slowly stood, his eyes on Tomas. “Tomas Tod? You’re ... alive? This ... this cannot be.”

  Vlad’s heart sank. If they knew his dad was alive, and that Vlad had found him, there was no reason to wait any longer. It was time to carry out Tomas’s trial and his subsequent punishment. Without delay.

  And they wouldn’t have known about Tomas if Vlad hadn’t rushed his dad back in a panic.

  Tomas stepped forward, his shoulder
s straight and proud, his jaw set. He placed a supportive, comforting hand on Vlad’s right shoulder and stared the vampires down. “Neither I nor my son will be accompanying you to our demise. Not now. Not ever, gentlemen.”

  The shorter vampire sounded aghast. “Your trial is imminent, Tomas, and will be presided over by Em herself. Your—and your son’s, I’d wager—sentence awaits. There’s no denying it. And you, what, you plan to interfere? To refuse to come face the Council of Elders?”

  “We do.” Otis moved forward then as well, placing his hand on Vlad’s left shoulder and glaring. “As my brother said, gentlemen. You can’t have him. Ever.”

  The tall, thin vampire growled, “Tomas will come with us now, or we will kill your human.”

  His eyes moved to Nelly and Vlad’s heart shot into his throat.

  He’d seen this. He’d lived this. It was the future, and Vlad had known it was coming about in just this way. Clearly, drinking Dorian’s blood wouldn’t just reveal the prophecy to him. It would also reveal the future. And who knows what else?

  Vlad stepped in front of his aunt and shook his head, growling, “If you lay as much as one finger on her, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

  With his peripheral vision, Vlad saw Otis move quietly to the bookcase, the one containing Nelly’s cookbooks. He saw Otis’s hand stretch out and close over a large glass paperweight. What did Otis think he was going to do, knock them out with a paperweight? Highly unlikely. Besides, they were powerful vampires, built for speed and out for blood. It didn’t exactly seem like the smartest plan.

  Ignoring his uncle, he focused on the vampires in front of him, who’d both bared their fangs and were eyeing Nelly like she was their next meal.

  Tomas growled, “I’m giving you both fair warning. Leave now, before someone gets hurt.”

  Em’s cronies turned their attention to Tomas then, and the three began arguing in Elysian code. Vlad turned to check on Nelly, and as he did, he saw what Otis was up to.

  Otis had bitten his finger and was dragging it hastily across the paperweight in the shape of his Mark.