Eleventh Grade Burns(15)

The vampire he’d addressed didn’t miss a beat, picking up where he was in English. “The changes to the Stokerton council are greatly disturbing. Under D’Ablo’s continued leadership—”

“A crime in its own right.” A familiar voice sent Vlad’s head around and his eyes searching for the speaker. When he found him sitting in an easy chair in the far corner of the room, Vlad couldn’t help but smile. Vikas. It was good to see him again.

“—it seems that the Stokerton council is becoming less a system of government and more a religious sect. The vampires there follow D‘Ablo blindly, as if he were a prophet whose wisdom were not based on fairy tales and hidden agendas. And it gets worse.” Cratus swallowed hard, raking a trembling hand through his wavy, dirty blond tresses. “D’Ablo has somehow managed to weasel his way onto the Council of Elders.”

The room erupted in shouts of disdain. Several vampires stood, making loud threats on DAblo’s life. Through the chaos, Vlad met Vikas’s gaze, which shifted from troubled to pleasant, as if Vikas was happy to see him. Vlad nodded, of fering a smile, and turned to look at Otis, who had stood. “Please, my brethren. We must remain calm.”

His voice was just that—calm, almost serene, but Vlad could sense the disquiet beneath Otis’s cool exterior.

It took a minute, but eventually, they all returned to sitting and listening as Cratus continued. “His presence on the Council of Elders has upset more than a few Elysian councils, and yet, he remains, having taken Mortimer’s place as the youngest vampire in the group. Vikas will speak further on this, I’m sure.”

Vikas stood and an air of awe fell over the group. Clearly, Vikas was a highly respected vampire, someone whom they all trusted inherently. “Some background for those not so familiar with the Council of Elders.”

Vlad shrank back in his seat. He was pretty sure he was the only one here who had no idea what they were talking about, so even though Vikas was doing him the favor of not pointing him out directly, it still made him squirm.

“The Council of Elders has been convening on rare occasions—that is to say, whenever a matter cannot be resolved by a single council—for centuries. We are, normally, the nine oldest vampires in existence. And as D’Ablo is but a tuneyadec— ” Vikas caught his abrupt shift into Russian and flicked an apologetic glance to Vlad. “Pardon me. I meant to call the dog a parasite.”

The room erupted in laughter. Despite the tension in his bones, Vlad chuckled. Clearly, there was at least one thing they could all agree on—D’Ablo was a jerk.

Vikas continued. “D’Ablo has no place on the council. He is not among the nine oldest vampires, and his so-called wisdom has been questioned several times by those of us who do have a right to sit on the council. With rumors that Em, the oldest of our kind, has fallen in with his cultlike following, there is no question of how he managed to get his name to be listed among ours.”

“Cultlike following?” Vlad hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but when he did, all eyes turned on him, many with sympathy.

Cratus shook his head at Otis. “Enough coddling the boy, Otis. Tell him the truth. Tell him what’s waiting for him in Elysia. Tell him about D’Ablo’s twisted belief system.”

Vlad glanced at Otis, but before Otis could speak, Vikas spoke for him. “Indeed, it is time that Vladimir knew about the divided factions in Elysia. I am certain, Mahlyenki Dyavol, that you know a bit about the division in vampirekind. There are those who believe as most do, that the prophecy of the Pravus is little more than a fairy tale, passed down through the ages like a ghost story. But there is another group, an ever-expanding group of vampires, who believe the prophecy to be real. These vampires believe that you are the Pravus and that you will assert vampirekind’s place in the world. No more hiding from humans, no more limits on feeding. They believe that you will rise up as their leader and put humans in their place, along with all who oppose them.”

Of course Vlad knew the story. He’d heard it from Vikas’s own lips on a cold night in Siberia his freshman year, and had never forgotten it. “What’s that have to do with D’Ablo?”

Otis, Cratus, and Vikas exchanged glances. It was Otis who spoke. “It’s recently been discovered that D’Ablo ... is the leader of this cult.”

Vlad furrowed his brow. If that were true, wouldn’t D’Ablo be trying to protect Vlad and raise him up as the Pravus, maybe suck up a little and get on his good side?