Eleventh Grade Burns(32)

Immediately, D’Ablo turned to Vlad and spoke. “If I took your life, everyone who ever loved your father would not stop until I was tortured and killed. A life for a life. I would lose my position as president, my belongings would become the belongings of your loved ones, and my name would be mocked for centuries to come. Your father was a very powerful and influential man. If I were to murder his son, I would regret it.”

Once the final word passed over his lips, he seemed to regain control of himself. His face reddened in anger and hatred, and if his eyes could have shot lasers, they would have burned a hole right through Dorian.

Dorian merely smiled, obviously enjoying his control over D’Ablo. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? It’s fun to tell the truth. Is there any other truth you’d like to share with Vlad?”

A curt reply, one filled with venom. “No.”

Dorian raised a sharp eyebrow, as if defying D’Ablo to speak. “Nothing about his father? Nothing about your plans?”

Vlad shot a look between the two older vampires. Plans? How did any of D’Ablo’s plans have anything to do with Vlad’s dad?

D’Ablo’s scowl deepened, hatred spewing from every pore in his body. “No.”

“Very well, then.” Dorian turned back to Vlad, then glanced over his shoulder at D’Ablo in an afterthought. “You may go now.”

D’Ablo stalked off without another word, dismissed, like a household servant.

Dorian sighed, shaking his head at Vlad like they were old friends. “I have never liked that guy.”

Now Vlad was alone with Dorian. Immediately, Vlad’s heart picked up its pace. As if listening to a symphony, Dorian closed his eyes, his head swimming with the sound of Vlad’s heartbeat. In an effort to snap him out of his day-dream, Vlad said, “Nobody likes D’Ablo. At least, nobody I know.”

“You’ll be surprised.”

Vlad furrowed his brow. You’ll not you’d. As if Dorian knew something he wasn’t telling Vlad.

“Less people like me than our friend D’Ablo, I’m afraid.”

“Something tells me you’re never afraid. Of anything.” In an afterthought, Vlad took a step back.

A strange smile lit up Dorian’s face and he shrugged casually, almost sheepishly.

Several seconds passed before Vlad said, “So ... what do you want?”

“I’ve come to proposition you. It is within my power to save your uncle’s life, but he is too stubborn to agree to a trade. So I implore you. Give me your blood and I will help your uncle survive his trial.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that it sounded as if he’d rehearsed his speech all the way here, as if he’d practiced it over and over again, perhaps out loud, until it sounded perfect, until his demand seemed sane and rational, everything that Dorian most certainly was not. His eyes told Vlad that he was completely serious, but his eager nod seemed almost childlike. He waited, and when Vlad failed to give him a thumbs-up on the idea, he sighed, troubled. “If I have to take your blood by force, Otis will die. I’m sorry, Vlad, but I cannot control this urge. I must have your blood, at any cost.”

Vlad’s heart rammed against his ribs. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Dorian wanted his blood, now he was left to choose between his life and Otis’s. He swallowed hard, wondering how both Dorian and D’Ablo had chosen this exact night to get on his case, and if they were somehow working together. After all, they both seemed to be after the same thing. “Why ask? Why not force me right now?”

After a moment, it hit him. Vlad took in a shaky breath. “You’re afraid you’ll fail again. I beat you before, and that scared you. Because no one beats you, do they, Dorian?”

Dorian’s mouth settled slowly into a frown, as if he were uncomfortable with the idea of anyone knowing his secrets. The irony did not escape Vlad. An all-powerful vampire, afraid of anyone finding out his deepest fears? That was one for the books. Dorian cleared his throat before speaking. “That’s not all. I ... derive pleasure from the idea that the boy who would be Pravus would bend to my will.”

Vlad’s stomach turned. “Not just hungry for blood, but power too, eh? You’re just like some spoiled kid, used to getting his way.”

Dorian grew quiet for some time, finally breaking it to whisper, “You might say that.”

Vlad shook his head. “The answer is no. You can’t have my blood. Not one drop. I’ve had enough excitement for the night, thanks.”